Please forgive me for moaning or whinging — because perhaps I am — but I suddenly feel so lost and directionless.
I am writing what will be the first draft of this blog on my phone, next to my bed.
I had to put down the book I'm currently reading (This Book Could Save Your Life, by Ben West, if you are interested), and start writing with anything I could.
The point being, it was so spontaneous — the need to write this blog.
I am achieving so much, yet feel like I'm achieving so little.
I know where I'm going, but still feel lost. Why?
I am spinning many plates, I know that. I have published two books (again, if you're interested, they are Prevailed Hope and Endeavour), alongside studying and beginning my first full-time job as an English tutor. (Fridays off though; Friday is my writing time. Though more recently, it has become a day of rest, before I continue building my 'writing empire' on the Saturday).
I am also the Inaugural Youth Poet Laureate of Stamford. This is a great honour (and a great shock to myself). It is testament to my ability, and subsequent achievement, as a writer. Not many people get to say they are a Poet Laureate!
Through all this work, I have become an award-winning writer! This is no mean feat, believe me, I know. A fantastic achievement. I have no qualms about admitting that. Having the confidence to admit I'm good at something is an achievement in itself. Not to mention being the result of much personal development, at the tender age of 20.
So, why is it that I feel I've achieved so little?
Well, I think it's safe to say — for now at least — that I only have a vague idea. Hopefully, writing this all out will enlighten me.
You see, I am doing so much. Anyone can see that. But in that, have I lost myself? Is it just that I'm tired? It could be almost anything, but I'm willing to bet it's a mixture of the two.
I'm tired, because I'm doing so much. Simple.
Or so you'd think. I like to keep busy. It's what keeps me going. Being chronically ill and struggling with my physical health, I'm more than fairly reliant on my mind compensating. The power of my mind makes up for my physical struggles. I am acutely aware of how fragile life is, and how things can change in an instant. Hence my wanting to get on; cram as much in as soon as possible.
Saying it like that makes it seem much more black and white than it is in practice, but hopefully you understand where I'm coming from.
I write partly because, through the written word, we get to free ourselves from the shackles of life, and see past the mist just a little bit. It allows me to forget the struggles I go through. Use my brain for what it does best. Do something that I can do very well. Makes a change from always feeling not quite good enough.
Not feeling quite good enough
That's where my need to keep busy comes from: I need to keep working, keep doing, in the hope that eventually something will come along. Eventually I'll achieve something that fulfills that feeling of being good enough.
When, in actuality, no matter what or how much I achieve, that feeling cannot fill the void. As cheesy as it might sound, peace comes from within. After that, things on the outside come together. I understand that.
The question is — where is that peace within, and how do we harness it?
On that, I have no idea.
Simplifying things.
I feel the key here is to simplify things. I am doing so much, and with that, viewing life as one big task. I tell myself (and others) that life is journey because, admittedly, it a way of reminding myself that everything takes time. It's all a process.
Though essentially separate entities, my writing career and teaching are converging. They both share similarities. These are the sharing of ideas and knowledge; seeing where these opportunities take me.
A side note — I'm interested into my spirituality and manifestation. Though I do not take it seriously, the ideology and philosophy is intriguing. And I do believe there is power in the universe somewhere, somehow.
I read somewhere that feeling lost in general can be a sign that our 'manifestations' are on their way. So, you know, there's always hope.
So, what do I want?
The finer details are for me to know, and for you to find out (books and blog posts are on their way!).
But there is a common theme that threads itself throughout all this: wanting to help people, wanting to make something of myself. I am ambitious, and want to do big things. I would like to be a well-known author. A steady stream of income from my writing whilst I continue my teaching and other academic endeavours. I would seriously like to try my hand at ghostwriting, but don't know where to start.
I would like to think that through my writing, I am creating change. Real change. Saying things that others won't — or can't, as the case may be. I know I'm helping people, but I would love for this to be on a bigger scale. Help as many people as I can.
By help, I mean my mental health advocacy, and being honest about my struggles. As well as giving people — in whatever form — something interesting to read. Whether that writing on writing, general observations, insights, or an escape through fiction.
Of course, none of this is set in stone, things will change with time. However, as I have said, these things all take time. One step at a time. And there is only so many hours, so much energy, that a person has.
Anyway, enough from me. I do hope there's some insight to be gleaned from my ramblings. This is a blip, a wobble. I'll be okay.
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