I am capable. Today, even though I’m horrendously hungover, I realise that there’s an inner well inside me filled with strength. When I woke up around 8am this morning I could’ve stayed in bed all day feeling sorry for myself and let the post-drinks depression kick in, but I didn’t. As usual I picked up my phone and started my daily social media binge to read about other people’s lives while languishing in mine until I stumbled upon a post by Nirrimi who runs the Fire & Joy blog and various other projects. She’s been posting daily updates where she focuses on her joys but doesn’t shy away from the hard parts. It was her sudden realisation when she said ‘I am pretty capable’. It was this short phrase that made me realise that I am capable too. So, I dragged myself out of bed, popped some painkillers and my Vitamin D supplements, had leftover pizza for breakfast and fired up my trusty purple laptop. Now I’m now writing this.
I’ve neglected my blog for a while because I’ve been working constantly and when I get home at night I’m usually overcome by tiredness. Editing my husband’s book, writing a feature script, and trying to piece together my life really took its toll on me. It was bright screen after bright screen and screeds of words that just didn’t make sense anymore. Desperately, I’d try to do a little each night and kept repeating to myself ‘This is your year. You can do this. This is the one’ but these pep talks just drove me down a rabbit hole of hopelessness and reinforced that impending fear that time was running out. I was unable to give things my all so my defences collapsed and let the anxiety stamp all over me. Once, I’d opened the door for it that inner critic started whispering in my ear vile, horrible things and gleefully tore any confidence I had to shreds. Its sharp words nearly killed me. Sometimes it told me that life wasn’t worth living, that I’d always be invisible, no one cared about me, and that there was no point in existence. Suicide seemed like a good option. I thought about it a lot because the pain was unbearable but realised I could never go through with it. Everything hurt and I was being eaten alive by self-doubt. There was no escape. Something had to give but I’d make damn sure it wouldn’t be me.
I’m a creative person and always will be. What I lack, I realise now, is structure. I buzz around like a headless chicken, directionless, with a never-ending pile of unfinished projects that over time lose their lustre. Abandoned ideas on yellowing pages in forgotten notepads. I’ve got my very own junkyard of dreams. I don’t want to be this quixotic person anymore where everything felt rushed and soulless. Drained of joy. So, I’m sitting down today and splitting my days into manageable chunks so that I’m always progressing towards my goals. My dreams at the moment don’t have a deadline. One step at a time is all it takes and I’ll get there. There are no shortcuts to success, no quick fixes, or cheat codes. Hard work and dedication will set me on the right path. I just need to prepare properly for the journey and like the tortoise in the children’s tale I’ll eventually pass that finish line.
Today’s the day where I make the first steps, these being the most important ones. Seeing those words on an Instagram post kick-started something in me, lit a tiny fire, and now it refuses to be put out. It made me feel something again and I’m extremely thankful for that. It made me realise, like Nirrimi said, that ‘I am pretty capable’.