Yesterday I’ve been to my psychotherapy. It was an important session, we came to realization that it’s easier for me not trust and imagine things about reality than trust and verify my imagination. Immediatly after that I felt depressed so that’s why I like writing, making up things I thought. Another escape path in my life. My enthusiasm went down, it was falling and falling down from a high upland of feeling high and experiencing the flow down to depression and rejecting writing at all. I told her that she is an authority figure for me so I disappeared last year for few months because I was protecting my vision of her. In my head she was safety. No ups and downs. She said it makes her sad because it means that we will never meet in a real life because she will rise up to my authority figure expectations or not, if not I will dissapear. Or wait, will I? If I already know that? It depends. There are many variables in this equation. I know that my mind can trick me very badly but maybe there is a way for me to trick my mind instead?
I think that writing is for me like an emergency exit. Safety button. Just you really need to push the door and go outside to see the sunlight and take a deep breath of fresh air. I got so excited about NaNoWriMo which is National Novel Writing Month it will be in November. The challenge is to write 50000 words till the end of the month. I just felt this is something for me – I want to take up the challenge! Within one evening I came up with a very first draft of a novel. I was writing freneticly probably with a kind of craziness in the eyes. I was typing faster than my computer could put letters on the screen. Through the week I was thinking about each chapter and characters. I was brainstorming heavily how to make it logical and consistant. It took me sleepless nights just to get it right. I even wrote the acknowledgement part. I had the proper title and I worked on “hook” introduction sentence. It all seems so exciting like I don’t remember when I felt like that. And then this session – I mean it was really relevant but still it really made me so so so SO SO extremely sad! I really don’t want imagination to take control over reality but in the same time I feel like I’m addicted to writing. I will write anyway. I really want to write that novel. Please let me write it. Please, please, please like maybe noone will ever read it but that doesn’t matter much. I’m writing that out of sorrow that this can be a form of escaping reality – is there a solution for me? How to keep both feet on the ground and be the ground-writer and not have head in the clouds and be the sky-writer? I can at least try to stick to reality not necessarily fly away with every tempting thought that come to my mind. Then I thought about dragons I think I’m less scared of the dragons now, when I recall the story of poor shoemaker I know they can be beaten. So I will try to be the ground-writer rather than sky-writer to not allow the beast take control over me and maybe eventually I can slay the dragon.