The Story from 8 Years Ago

Eight years ago, I started a story and ghosted it for the next seven.

But this time, I'm getting serious.

I know I've said it plenty of times before. A thousand times, I'm sure.

But this time, I'm for real.

To prove it to myself, I started an Instagram page dedicated to my writing. I now have followers interested in my story. They don't realize it, but their engagement and interest keep me accountable. I'm also about to get a Newsletter started as I finish writing my final draft. After that, it'll be ready to be handed over to beta readers.

And I do kick myself sometimes for waiting so long, but then I remember I was battling severe depression and anxiety for the last seven years. It drained me of any happiness and joy I took in creativity.

At one point, I did manage to grab a sliver of creativity back. I put a saddle on it and rode off into a sunset of designing children's clothing, sewing, and started a business doing it. There were a lot of learning curves with marketing and some financial restrictions, but I was certain it would someday become a side job for me.

Until Covid happened.

And more depression set in.

I took a break.

I lost my creativity again.

Thus, the dark cycle began again. Until last year in July when My husband and I went on our ninth-year anniversary, our first vacation away from the kids since our fifth anniversary.

It was in that cabin tucked in the woods with the fresh air, quiet evenings, and crisp mornings that I found my love for writing again. I revisited that story I hadn't touched in years because, truthfully, it had been on my mind all those years hoping one day I'd get to finish it.

It was so badly written and full of unnecessary characters, scenes, and dialogue, and I realized something else. When I'd written it, I was between the age of twenty and twenty-one years old. I was in a completely different season of life back then compared to now.

Regardless, I knew I could still use some of the characters and the world I'd built. So, I took the time to re-map it the best I could as a Pantser with ADHD and rewrote the entire story.

I got rid of characters.

I changed the theme.

I added character development.

Then I re-wrote it again this year. And again. And again. I'm nearly finished with my final draft and as I look back, I just smile and look forward again.

I know I've written the word 'again' three times up there, but that word holds a lot of meaning in my life. Because every day I'd tell myself, "I'll try again."

Only this time, 'again' means I'm getting better.

These past two years, I've stopped making excuses. I've started getting up early. I'm managing my depression and anxiety better. I go to the gym (not as much as I'd like, but it's a start). My youngest kid is in Pre-K now so it's easier to have a strong routine I can follow.

Today was my first day without any kids at home. This year is my first to have them all in school, full-time.

And for the first time, it feels like I've let go of a breath I'd been holding all these years.

Is this what freedom feels like?

I think for me it does.

Every now and then, depression, anxiety, or imposter syndrome comes to visit. But I'm getting better at telling them now. It's not perfect, but it's a process.

I know I'll never be a hundred percent rid of them, but seeing them less gives me hope.

I WILL self-publish my first book. And I'm going to write many more after.

R.I.P old self. I don't hate you. I love you. And it's time for me to let go and become something new.