May 26th, 2020 – 608 – Day seventy-one

My wordcount’s been going up a lot in the last few days, even as my mental health plunges. I know a big part of that is my writing slipping too late in the day, me not getting enough sleep, and then trying to get through the 9-5 on reduced batteries as well as dealing with less than ideal conditions. I mean, everybody has a version of that right now, so I expect no sympathy for that, but it’s a reality that I’m strained at the moment.

When I’m like this is becomes a lot harder to remember that the words I write don’t have to be – and likely won’t be – great. 1K is about pacing myself not just for consistant output, but because no word or sentance is above cutting if it is mediocre or supurflous. The first draft is the raw block of marble, which you haven’t yet carved anything of note out of yet. And somehow I’m able to write that andbeat myself up for ‘eh’ progression at the same time.

I’ve been suffering some serious imposter syndrome at work of late. I think it’s just the sheer number of things slipping through the cracks. I do recognise that’s more to do with the volume of tasks now whilst in inideal circumstances, but I don’t want to do a bad job. I want people to feel confident knowing someone has their back, and I worry I’m not doing that as well as I’d like right now. I guess, writing this out, makes me realise my work and my writing problems may be the same problem: my self confidence right now is shot.

Gotta rebuild that somehow on top of everything else…