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The effects of writing
I sit with my computer open deciding what I want to write, the thing is I know I’m not a bad writer and at the same time I believe my writing is bad, this is why we can’t think in black and white. It’s been a while since iv written anything for my blog and I know if I want to help others and gain a bigger following I need to write something soon. I have ideas, maybe ill write about how college is going or how I haven’t been having the best week, but all those things seem to cliché, my writing isn’t good enough it needs o be better. I erase and erase until I finally come up with an idea, but soon begin to see maybe that idea isn’t the best either. I begin to become anxious and can hear people outside my dorm, I am becoming more unfocused second by second. I close my laptop and go on my phone, I see my Instagram posts and see that maybe I’m not being real with the world…wait hold on that’s a great idea for my blog, except one thing I posted something like that a few weeks before I left for school so scratch h that idea. Hold on I need to just give this time and come back to it when I’m in a better mood, let me shut my phone off and go to bed. I wake up its 12:30 and I’m on my phone yet again, I want to write but I do not want it to be wrong or incorrect and I sure don’t want people to hate me for what I write. I’m stuck in this negative mindset, yet again black and white thinking my writing is bad and I’m never going to be able to write this blog post. I decide to look back at my old posts and see how vulnerable I was, why could I write then but not now? I’m scared is the only true answer, scared of what people think of me and my writing. The whole reason I have this blog is so I can help people but right now all I can think of is those same people thinking how horrendous my writing is. Why am i able to post on my Instagram and write a short caption there but not write one blog post? I give up and yet again write on my Instagram about why I haven’t posted, but this time it’s a lie I say I’m too busy or homework’s stressing me out when in reality I’m still thinking about how my writing could be bad. A week passes by and I’m doing ok, not amazing but that’s what my blogs for expressing what’s going on in my life and how I’m coping with it. I open my laptop back up and sit for a while debating if this blog post would be worth it, yes, I could help someone and I could also get negative feedback, I’m about to cry and I have no idea why…ok maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration I do know why, I’m so overwhelmed that even thinking about writing is making me feel down. I sit with tears streaming down my face just wanting to be able to write but everything I write is coming out as complete garbage, nothing the public eye should see. I gave up finally and just leave it at that, I’m not going to be able to write now so maybe I’ll come back to this later but as of now I’m too scared to admit how I’m actuallty feeling and don’t want others seeing this awful piece of writing. It’s a month later I have to write for my English class and again I’m scared, I know she won’t force us to share our writing, but I do know my teacher will read this and what if it’s wrong? I hate being wrong and why would I want something I love like writing to be wrong, so again I sit on my bed with laptop open listening to music crying because I have no idea what I am going to write, finally I write something because I know sooner or later I have to turn this in, it’s not my best work and that is something I’m truly ashamed of. It’s been a couple years and I’m still scared of my writing being wrong but I know I’m a psych major and I’m going to have to write case studies soon, so I begin to think about what I’m writing and look back at my old writings from my psych 101 class senior year, he told me I did it all wrong and needed to redo it, this is my dream something I want to do for the rest of my life it can’t be wrong. I finally get an assignment from my psychology teacher of course it’s a case study, it’s almost the end of college a year and a half left and I’m finally starting to deal with the hard stuff. I rewrite and rewrite my case study physically shaking because I’m so scared this will be wrong, and this is not a tie I can be wrong. It’s been a week and finally I have half of my work done, I finally decide I need to finish this up. It’s been three more days and I finished my study up, the hardest thing is that I fear my teacher will say it’s wrong. I walk into class having already submitted the assignment and my teacher sits there and goes on with class not saying anything about the assignment. I’m so worried its wrong and just want to have a grade already. A few days pass and I begin to think we won’t be getting a grade anytime soon this frightens me even more I soon realize I need to move on and forget about it for now. Its ten years later and I have just started my doctorate program, my dreams are truly beginning to come true, but then I remember this is it everything has to be perfect nothing can be wrong this is a make it or break it situation my one chance to truly do what I want. I begin to write papers for my class and have the biggest anxiety attack I have had since undergrad, shaking and crying as my family sits in the other room watching but, I had a family already and I was one step away from having everything I have always wanted… become Dr.C . I can barely focus on this assignment I’m so worried about ruining my whole life, what if I don’t become a doctor? What if I don’t get to open my own office? What if my family ends up hating me? Its forty years later and I still need writing I have to write down patient notes, write so insurance is covered for my patients but yet here I am still worried I’ll be wrong. My job is a job where you can’t be wrong, people’s safety and confidentiality lie in my hand so again I am scared and worried about my writing. This is it though I got where I needed to be so if I am still worried and scared that’s ok because my writing may not be what I want but it’s the best I can do, and I need to accept that.
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This piece is about how writing effects me.