When Words Fail Me

A Lull in Content Creationism

I haven’t stopped writing. I am not taking a break. Words have not failed me. I have not fallen and cannot get up. So, what happened? Why am I not writing every day?

I get up at the same time, work the same job, and go to bed at the same hour. I am not suffering from depression or amnesia. I still love to write and miss my daily adventure into word algorithms. It is not a lack of want or desire. It is not procrastination. It borders on the balance of life and sanity.

Finding a work-life balance is difficult in the best of times. In the worst of times, it is an exercise of futility. I try to regulate my work life, social life, and physical life with exercise, diet, and social outings. More often, my work life prevails in an attempt to gain financial freedom from the mundanity of modern society.

I often feel like a juggler at a carnival with humanity watching, waiting for the inopportune time when all the balls, sticks, and plates come crashing down. We might be pulling for the juggler, but we are watching, waiting for the crash.

I miss the luxury of being able to write every day. I wish the world were a perfect place and I could write my heart out at the expense of time. Time is money, they say, and “they” would be correct. I get paid by the hour, and my employable hours tick by like sand in a glass. We only have so many hours, days, and years to make enough and save for our future.

Some of us will never attain the luxury of writing every day. A place to call home, a bank account that allows us to travel the world. I still have hope, but the unfortunate truth is that I must balance my passion with the realities of the modern world.

I have not given up on my passion for writing. I have been writing for fifty years and will hopefully be writing for another fifty. But does that mean I need to write every day? What if writing every day interferes with my overall health and welfare at my other job? What if my other job pays my bills, feeds me, clothes me, and houses me? It makes writing every day seem less than optimal.

I write when I am happy. I like writing upbeat, positive outcomes. This is hard to do when you are working 14 hours a day and you have little free time for other endeavors. I wanted to write and tried to write every day. The extra stress was pushing me over the edge, and I lost sleep for the wrong reason. Not because I was up late writing, but anxiety over not writing.

That cannot be healthy. I needed some time to breathe. I took a week off, then two, then three. Do I feel better? Answer: No. But I did catch up on my sleep, my mind less cluttered and more refreshed. Is this a function of sleep? Probably. The science behind sleep is ongoing. But a few general conclusions are self-evident.

People who are sleep-deprived make poor decisions. They are prone to emotional outbursts and anger more easily than a well-rested individual. They tend to gain weight and are subject to memory loss. The general conclusion is that sleep deprivation over long periods of time can lead to a variety of physical and mental health problems.

If I were a petri dish experimenter, I would conclude with my own observed actions that the above is true. A good night’s sleep is a luxury in my life. I cherish the nights I sleep eight continuous hours without waking. I wish that had happened every night.

My writing adventure, passion, and future are on temporary hold. I need to focus on financial stability. I tried but failed at conquering them at the same time. I have not given up, nor will I ever give up on my dreams of becoming a full-time writer. I will continue when things improve beyond survival mode. From Ketchikan, Alaska, with love and words.