Forcing myself to write

Professionally, writing is no longer part of what I do. Compared to who I was 11 months ago and beyond that, I am no longer a writer tapping away on a laptop trying to beat the deadline. While this has made my life easier (since being a writer has taken me to emotional and mental nadir several times before), this has taken a toll on me. I remember last week, when finally there was something that I needed to write for my work, I sat in front of a blank word document for hours (alt-tabbing to Twitter and Facebook) for hours and produced nothing. My day went on without me being productive. I almost broke down in tears that day. What happened to me? Have I forgotten to write?

This detachment to writing has seeped into this blog as well. Lately, what I have been posting were quotes, lines, verses from people who echo what I feel at that moment. But it was never about me typing out all those raw emotions as what I used to. And in those rare instances that I forced myself into writing, I find them to be of sub-par quality. Even beneath it. THIS thing I am writing right now is BENEATH sub-par quality. It is something that I would be deleting eventually, out of shame.

I have not lost hope yet. This act of blogging and risking being late for work (I still have to take a bath and run to the office) IS hope. Every day, every morning after waking up, I will force myself to write. Even if I’m not in extreme emotional depths (which usually fuels me into blogging), I will write. Practice. I will not try to delete even the most horribly written ones, just to assess my progress. Also, I will go back to reading again (right now, I am reading Douglas Coupland’s “Girlfriend in a Coma”), which helps if one wants to improve her writing.

Starting this day, this first of December, I will force myself to write. So help me God.

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