The Writing Depression

Now that I’ve officially started my ‘writing spree’, I am now spiraling in a cold cruel vortex of depression –which shouldn’t be so as I’ve embarked on pursuing my passion. My work as a teacher now holds no inspiration for me and I find myself just struggling to do the work. I’ve asked myself the question, ‘Why should I keep on doing this when I don’t want it?’ There were moments when I just stare cold blank at my students doing their work and feel ‘nothing’. I’d space out during the class (which rarely happens!) and couldn’t muster teaching (which I should be doing). Here lies the dilemma as of the moment this is the job that puts food on the table.

What to do? What to do?

I’m sorely tempted to just quit now and run away and eloped happily with writing knowing it’s going to have dire consequences. Sound advice that proliferates on the web says that you should never quit your day job and slowly build your business (in my case) writing on the side until it produces cash. Yeah but how about you find yourself losing your drive to just do your day job? What if you find everyday you have to drag yourself just to do an hour’s work?

I suppose this depression has to do with the fact that I’ve been so busy at my day job that I’ve neglected to at last write these past couple of days –this week when I’m supposed to start my love relationship with this sacrosanct craft. I’ve been putting it off to start my lesson planning shitty work first thing in the morning because I know I would be totally unmotivated to do it later in the day when my life’s blood is drained in teaching. This used to be my daily habit and I would just tuck my passion aside knowing I would do it after the first quarter. This has sustained me and built up this facade of normalcy and I would go through life blindly –dreaming, dreaming of one day of pursuing my fantasy. The dreamer’s disease. Now the first quarter’s up and my Goals Notebook is screaming, "THIS IS IT!". Yet old habits die hard and I thought I could write after a hard day’s work thinking my passion would see through the old weariness. Life’s surprises didn’t fit the equation though. Slowly backlog and interruptions push the writing aside and I couldn’t even get a single blot of ink on the paper. Hence the depression and the cold unnerving feeling of an unpurposeful existence.

But no more. I’ll take the risk and this time shove the day job aside and go forth and drown with joyful ecstasy in my passion starting today.

And the sun finally comes up and clears the chilling darkness of my soul



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