I’ve been a member of the Red Room for nearly two years and this is my first blog entry.
When I was an adolescent and teenager I wrote with abandon. I expressed, in my poems, songs and stories, what I felt – unafraid to share honestly. I was not frightened to be open and write candidly. After many years of calling myself a writer, apologetically, I recently finished my first full manuscript, a memoir, and felt I had finally earned the right to call myself ‘author’.
Recently a bout of illness and a month of debilitating anxiety found me unwilling and unable to write anything. Suddenly my internal critic was shouting in my ear with a megaphone and telling me in no uncertain terms to “say nothing”. My mother’s advice “never put anything in writing” had me retreating into my writer’s-block-shell, and it was firmly decided I would never write again.
That was yesterday.
Today I’m pushing on... forward.
A return to health and reduced anxiety has helped me to regroup and pick up the pen. I’m starting with blogging and correspondence to ease back into writing. I’ll begin with writing for fun, writing for me, for friends and relaxation. Silence the inner critic until I’ve found my creative joy again.