Do Write, Write Wrong

photo credit: secretlondon123

Hate to Write

Okay so there was an epiphany of epic proportion.

I HATE TO WRITE. And yet I WRITE all this stuff down everyday about the stuff in my head, so obviously I can’t HATE TO WRITE.

I can however have issues with people seeing what I write and therefore maybe I hate to write for other people, meaning, I have trouble with other people reading what I write and then misunderstanding, judging or other wise criticizing what I’ve written?

Do you have that too?

Escape Into Phantasy

And for a few minutes I believed it was about Perfectionism.

That belief shattered quickly though. I’d say it took maybe 40 minutes.

You are reading this and certainly it is nowhere near perfect. Plus, I let perfectionism the majority of my verbal perfectionism go years and years ago, even though sometimes I still try using it as an excuse for my dislike of writing.

It’s not.

While I was pretending it was perfectionism, another thought occurred to me. Maybe I have a phobia.

But I Have A Condition

Let’s see. Do I want to have a phobia? Ooh and if I do have a phobia and can get other people to agree the phobia is a problem for them and can get buy in for it from some Sneezers, then provide “The Cure” I might get rich.

[insert evil marketing cackle here]

fear of big thoughts in small spaces – magniclaustracogitaphobia

Thank you 8th grade teachers name I can’t recall at the moment, for making me take Greek and Latin etymology. What I do remember about her classroom is the poster above the door – orange poster board, blue block letters, wavy blue border, laminated.

“Your best today, should not
Be your best tomorrow.”

I’m seeing that quote now and there is definitely some subtle visual neuro linguistic programming suggested. Hmm. Anyway.

So now I have a reason. I have a condition.

It’s called magniclaustricogitaphobia.

See, see, it’s a condition. I can’t help it.

For you skimmers. I. Made. That. Up.

The Real Habit is The Cause

Still I remember writing childhood book reports, that I would much rather … wait a minute, I don’t remember “writing” book reports in my childhood. Oh yes that’s right …

I remember I liked to talk. I liked to be helpful with my talking, I always believed I was helpful with the lot of talking I liked to do. Although, according to most of my teachers, not all of my talking was viewed as helpful.

I also remember I always waited until the last minute to write whatever it was I had to write – minus poetry. That stuff just rolled off my brain and through a pen, pencil, crayon, marker, made up song – whatever.

Poetry wasn’t and still isn’t writing in my world.

I didn’t like to write. I never learned a real writing process that worked for me. I was taught one way to write.

“The One and Only Way”, to write all the different types of writing, sort of like the one and only religion that will save your soul kind of way to write. Anything short of or other than “The One and Only Way” would send me and my writing to hell.

And now I struggle with writing and sharing my thoughts via writing and I don’t like the struggle. So I am making a decision.

“My writing is inconsistent and consistent dammit.”
“My writing is rambling and as full of me in the moment as it wants to be dammit.”

And, me, I’m going to be okay with that. I am going to choose being okay with that.

Yay, I started a real dammit list. Dammit. Thanks Havi.

And I wrote.

That is all.

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What makes you want to write or not write or struggle to write and what are you willing to declare about it?

Tell me in the comments.