The Blocks That Make Me
A STORY ABOUT NOT WRITING

I used to pound my keyboard with my fists, hoping every plastic letter would crush beneath my swelling hands. I would pace the room and mutter to myself, waiting for some thought or idea — any thought or idea — to give me the incentive to write another word. But writer’s block, it seems, is much more than simply not knowing what to write next. A block takes time to pass because it’s not unlike a condition, though an acute condition. I liken it to a panic attack, which can appear to have no immediate cause when in truth there are both internal and external factors involved. And like a panic attack, writer’s block can begin spontaneously and without warning and can happen at any time.
When I get writer’s block, I develop a loathing for every thought that occurs to me and nothing — no words, however unique or poetic — will suffice. And when I read other writers, hoping new voices can help me through the impasse, I despise their words even more than my own. I despise them because I like them and because I do not like them. It does not matter. So long as my own creative impulse remains handicapped, I can no longer appreciate the beauty or clarity of words.
The First Block
The first time it happened to me, I was too young to even know what writer’s block was, but I took my words seriously and I wrote for what I thought at the time were noble reasons. Like many young aspiring artists, I performed for an invisible audience of my own imagining, penning my works for eventual readers who, I hoped, would embrace my uniquely sensitive worldview and sympathize with my plight as a social outsider (pardon the self-deprecating irony). But a day came when I could no longer see purpose in it. I looked at some words I had written in longhand on a sheet of notebook paper and they struck me as being almost ridiculously mundane. I scratched them out and started an entirely new sentence, but again, the words were dull and insignificant.
Being in high school at the time, I had heard of writer’s block, but I just didn’t recognize the signs, thinking perhaps that I was losing interest in writing but still felt compelled, for whatever reason, to finish the task at hand. I hated my words, but I couldn’t stop trying. And by the end of a day’s work, I had thrown out nearly an entire notebook of words buried in pen scratchings, ink blots, and stab holes from one page to another.
The Worst Block
At its worst, writer’s block can last for a lifetime, but even a single day is difficult to endure. Despite every intention to write, nothing seems good enough, and nothing gets typed that isn’t immediately deleted afterward. The worst case in my own life lasted for almost a week during an undergraduate writing course. I simply could not muster a single thought worth writing. And every attempt at writing ended predictably with a finger on the backspace. But like every block before it and since the affliction eventually came to an end. And just as easily as it ended, the writing began once again, resulting in an A grade that took me months to admit I actually deserved.

The Blocks to Follow
In my adult life, blocks seem to occur most frequently during times of stress and work-related anxiety. When I need more than anything to write words on a document, either for personal or business reasons, that is when I cannot choose between them. That is when I freeze in place over my keys and stare, blindly, at the white light of obscurity.
According to research on the subject of writer’s block, the condition is described as “a stress reaction that paralyzes the ability to put thoughts into words.” Without stating it outright, this description denotes a fear of inadequacy that lies at the heart of every block I have ever experienced. Anyone who has ever read through a published list of cliches knows the fear of ineffectiveness, and though it can seem as if a case of writer’s block is about nothing more than ideas, there is almost always a sense of fear in that “stress reaction” that paralyzes the mind.
The Block’s End
The only solution, unfortunately, is time. In my experience, the only way out of writer’s block is to simply wait for it to pass, which is the worst thing a writer (especially one with a deadline) can imagine. But despite the perceived harm endured by the loss of time, the result is often for the better. Rather than pulling at your creative teeth for something you can barely tolerate attaching your name to, you learn by necessity the benefits of forced patience, and in turn, longevity. And by forgoing immediate gratification in favor of thoughts more worthy of writing in the first place, you may even create something with more potential than you had originally planned. For me, that is the only outcome that makes a block worthwhile. But I’ve been through this enough times now to know that the longer a block lasts, the more likely it will end in a breakthrough.
While some suggest more traditional forms of therapy for writer’s block, I have only found success by surrendering to it, either walking away or simply waiting with deep breaths for a change of thought. Sometimes just continuing the work and writing anything at all will help to spur new notions to mind, but only if you relax your expectations and accept the block as part of the process. Looking back at a lifetime of written work, I still have my doubts, but they are intermittent doubts. Slowly, the paralyzing force of writer’s block becomes tolerable to me. And for that, I have only patience to thank.
Sources
Behaviour Research and Therapy — pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/1567339/
Canadian Family Physician — www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2277565/
Writers.com — writers.com/how-to-avoid-cliches-in-writing






