WHAT HAVE I DONE

i quit my job.


i'm turning 29 this year and i keep asking myself; what the fuck are you doing with your life? how long are you going to continue working in hospitality for? when are you finally going to do any of the things you've talked about doing? so i quit. i quit to pursue something i've been wanting to do for the past seven years: write a book.


at first glance, quitting felt exhilarating. writing a book felt exciting. but as i've been stuck in isolation for the past week, i've found that i've been more than just a prisoner in my own house; i've been a prisoner of my own mind.


i've been writing every day. but everything i've been writing is shit. it feels forced. nothing i'm writing has been capturing the essence of what i wanted this book to be about; connection. you might think, well, just start again. but it's not that simple. i have so much in my head that i've wanted to say, that i've been saying over the years, but i have absolutely no idea how to articulate that in a way that is linear. in a way that is captivating for 150 pages. i've altered my writing over the years to accommodate our declining attention and now i'm supposed to write a book?


everything that seemed so exciting last week now seems so daunting. quitting my day job to pursue my creative ambition seemed like an intelligent decision, but it's something Liz Gilbert in Big Magic strongly discourages. now i'm left with nothing but my thoughts; all day every day. taunting me to write the book i don't know how to write.


i feel conflicted. i know i need structure, purpose; all humans do. but i also know i don't want to go back to hospitality. i want to be doing more with the skills i have. i need to be doing more with the skills i have. but i don't know how. i've never known how. and instead of having work as a distraction, i have nothing to hide myself from these realisations. i don't want to be consumed by things i don't want to do, but i also don't want to be consumed by the demons of my mind, tantalising me every day.


the novelty's worn off. the excitement's faded. i now have to figure out how i keep myself sane when all i want to do is scream.

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