Asking for Help
I had a problem.
Let’s be honest. I have several problems, but this particular one brought out the confetti cones and strobe lights. There may even have been an inflatable tube man or two.
What was my problem? Writing.
But CJ, isn’t your website all about writing?
Yes, indeed. And hence why this was a large, inflatable tube man problem.
Let’s start at the beginning.
Last week I started feeling uncomfortable every time I thought about writing. Not house-on-fire discomfort but low grade something-is-not-right discomfort. So naturally I started to avoid writing. But the more I avoided it, the more anxiety began to build until I felt like Sisyphus being chased downhill by the boulder.
Eventually, I reached a crux point. Either live with high-grade anxiety every time I thought about writing (no thanks) or sit down and figure out what the fuck is going on (ick). As I’m writing this blog post, you may guess, dearest fiend, which one I chose.
After some pondering, I came to two conclusions:
I had made a series of decisions to procrastinate writing. This in turn had snowballed into that snow-boulder currently chasing me down the hill while screaming my name. Or perhaps that was me.
The sheer amount of creative potential swirling around in my head scared me.
Excellent. Problem solved, yes?
Nope.
I still had anxiety over writing. Now I just knew why I had it. I had the key, but I still needed to walk over to the door and use it. And fiends, let me tell you, there were scary noises outside that door.
So I decided to round up some support.
I have a pretty small support group so it was easy to winnow down who was not available to help. My Twin, Beach Mermaid, and Warrior are all hit-and-miss when it comes to digital communication. I needed someone I could guarantee would answer within the day. Bonus points for immediate response gratification. Angel was also out because her current phase of life of mother-with-young-child does not easily allow additional priorities to be added to her plate.
That left two.
Kohai has lightning-fast communication reflexes and a familiarity with the complexities and irritations of writing. But past experience tells me she’s not a good fit for my need of daily accountability. This leaves but one candidate: Online Dominatrix.
Online Dominatrix, or Domina for brevity’s sake, is an excellent candidate. Not only is she digitally responsive and an experienced writer herself, but she also has this certain je ne sais quoi of spirit which is supported by a fast mind and an even faster tongue. If I am the pun master, Domina is the master of barbed and sophisticated wit. This can make her intimidating to approach, especially for a request which mainly benefited myself. You do not approach a queen without tribute, my fiends.
So I approached, figurative cap-in-hands, with my request. Would you please be willing to hold me accountable for writing? The thought of being verbally eviscerated both excites and motivates me to avoid it. Not to mention the fact that, horror of horrors, I’d be letting another person DOWN!
Being the Online Dominatrix that she is, Domina asked a pointed question before she would grant my request.
I thought you liked intuitive writing instead of pressured writing.
Fiends, I cannot overemphasize how my stomach plummeted. How could I have forgotten my raison d'etre for this website?! Did this mean I was wrong? Or worse, disingenuous???
Thankfully, my brain ran after my emotions waving a green flag. Don’t worry! We’ve got a reasonable answer!
Intuitive writing is about the cycles of the energy within us. Sometimes the writing pool is dry – all cracked mud and tumbleweeds blowing past. Other times it’s a trickle of water meandering past a handful of cattails and one brown frog. And then it’s a flash flood, carrying off boulders and giant trees!
What I was currently experiencing was a flash flood of intuitive creativity, but I was desperately throwing up mental roadblocks and dams to hold the creative tide back. Why?
The answer is fear.
I was afraid of the massive amounts of creativity threatening to crash over me because I wasn’t in control of it. I have no control of when it strikes and with how much force. I was also afraid of not being good enough (for who?) or meeting expectations (set by whom?).
Once I identified these fears, they lost some, though not all, of their power over me. Enough for me to begin inching my way forward. And as so often happens, once I embraced that creative flood, it carried me along with it.
So I told all that to Domina. Well, maybe not all. A much more briefly worded summary. And you know what she said? She said yes! (Though I did not put a ring on it.)
We agreed on a week of checking in. I’d let her know if I wrote and how much, be that a large amount or small. She in turn let me know about some of the projects she was doing around her home. This had the unexpected effect of catching me up on her life. Accountability ftw!
If you’re wondering how much writing I got done then let this post answer your question.
But not just this post. A total four came tumbling out of my head. And not just blog posts, but pages upon pages of story for another project. But wait! There’s more! I still have another project my intuitive little brain is just waiting for the chance to gnaw on like a cat with a catnip-infused kicker stick. With how much writing I dropped within that week, it’s no surprise I was feeling overwhelmed by the tsunami of creativity that had built up!
I would like to say that this experience has taught me a valuable lesson in procrastination. That next time I catch myself procrastinating I’ll stop. But I know myself, and I know that’s not a likely outcome. So instead of feeling guilty next time I ‘fail’ to do this ‘the right way’, I’ll walk myself through the steps I’ve created.
1. Notice the anxiety.
2. Investigate the anxiety.
3. Plan an attack on the anxiety.
4. And last but not least, attack attack attack the root cause of said anxiety.
And if I’m lucky, Domina may use her whip a few times along the way.