When Writing Feels Impossible

Some stories aren’t just stories

I’ve been thinking about writing since the weekend. I eat, sleep, and breathe Glowrot right now. I’m excited, nervous, and ready to work every second of my life. And yet, life can’t stop to allow me to do it. Time passes, responsibilities kick in, and I just can’t find time.

No, not time.

Brain.

I have seen the advice, the whole “find pockets of the day” or “write for at least 5 minutes.” Time is not a problem for me; if that was what I needed, I would simply make the time. But my brain can’t focus, and I can’t exist.

I’m either too tired from working or from exercising, or too overwhelmed, or my ADHD is particularly bad, or I’m struggling an extra bit with English, and my entire internal dialogue reverts back to Spanish.

I guess that’s why I’m writing this, right? To show the raw, the ugly, the real, the authentic.

No one wants to show the struggles in social media because it’s supposed to entertain, because people usually doomscroll to forget about real life. And yet, real-life still exists, and maybe, just maybe, if we start sharing little by little about the not-so-wonderful times, we’ll realize how similar we truly are.

So why do I keep coming back to this story, even when my brain is screaming at me to stop? Why not give up?

Because I love this story with my whole life.

For years after the first time I finished it (back when it was in Spanish, titled Nexo), I started doing market research, studying trends and tropes, social media, and other authors to try to come up with the perfect formula for what I should write to be successful. And I wrote some stuff! But nothing has felt truly mine since then.

This story has a part of my soul. My desire to set my soul free keeps me going every day.

I guess that’s the truth of it. I’m writing to free myself.

What stories keep you going, even when everything feels hard?