An Apology To Myself

Dear Me,

I am sorry.

Sorry that you're still working your 9-5, sorry that creative burnout got the best of you, sorry that comparison has gripped you so tight that you have robbed yourself of any happiness. Sorry that you thought you could make it, and you haven't yet. Sorry that writing seems so hard and you end up staring blankly at the page or the screen and inevitably your attention turns back to social media and endless scrolling.

Maybe it's society. Maybe it's you. Maybe there's a lack of drive, lack of love, lack of confidence.

It's a lot of apologies and a lot of lacking, but sometimes you just have to acknowledge the fork in the road. And let me tell you, this one is full of pot holes so no wonder you've come out of the other side a shaking mess.

It's just a shame.

A shame that nobody has given you the chance, shame that you have not given yourself a chance. A shame that society deems anybody with a creative bone in their body as not a real worker - "being a writer isn't a job.", "when are you going to get a big girl job?", "you're not exactly J. K. Rowling." (fuck off).

And I know, nobody is going to pay you to sit in your room and write just on the basis that you might have potential. That you might finish a book one day, and that's a tough pill to swallow.

It's just I am so tired.

Tired of feeling like I'm not enough. Tired of feeling like that big break will never come, I'll be stuck working in retail and living in my parents house for the rest of my life and I'll never get to experience the real joy of doing a job I love. Tired of knowing that deep down maybe I don't give myself enough credit but God is it easier to believe that I'm not cut out for all of this and crawl up in a self-pity ball instead of having the confidence to say: I CAN DO THIS.

Maybe I can. Maybe I will. Maybe it won't happen now, or in a years time. Maybe it'll happen when I'm 50 and I can say "hey look, that book on that shelf? It's mine. I wrote it." But I can't say for sure yet, I'm only 24 and only just finding my feet.

Its easy to get carried away.

And so, despite all the apologies and the lacking and the maybes and the holy shit I'm so tired of feeling this way, my main apology to myself is: I'm sorry that I've let you down.

Over the past five years I've worked intermittently as a writer, publishing articles and working on my book. Other ideas have floated around in countless notebooks and I've tried - and failed - to run a bookstgram and a booktok page. It's hard, and I haven't given myself enough grace. At all.

I have written an entire book, created an entire world that has come from my brain and that in itself is no easy feat. I've made money from my writing, sure it's not anywhere near a sustainable wage but I achieved that all by myself. I featured in Vocal's advertising campaign and been featured on my local radio on 3 separate instances as a music blogger. THAT'S CRAZY! I've paid for writing courses to help improve my own skills and I wouldn't have done that if I didn't believe in myself just a teensy little bit...right?

So, me, I'm sorry. Going forward I want to believe in myself a little bit more. Fight my own corner, have my own back and be my own number one fan. I'm proud of me, and I'm doing my best. I wish good things for my future, but for now, let's enjoy the ride.