I turned 29 yesterday. I’ve never felt so old and I’m starting to understand what it means to age. I’m going to be 40 in eleven years. For a while now I feel like I’ve been ‘stuck’ in a younger mental phase. Like for my early twenties, I felt the same as I did at 16, then I kind of went through a little bit of a level up, but it was not that distinctive. But since last year I really think that I’ve matured or levelled up. I don’t know if going through burnout helped mature me or something, but that event is part of my psyche now.
A lot has happened in the past 12 months. My husband and I changed our visas and returned to the UK. It was around that time I was hit with burnout and well pretty much did not write for a solid eight months. I’ve been on holidays to Lisbon, Isreal and Jerusalem. Got two kitties cats. Somehow managed to push out a sci-fi novella (despite burnout) and read more books than I have had previously.
I have a feeling that it’ll be a full year before I get over my burnout. I’m thinking I’ll start writing/editing again in May. I remember having developed such ill feelings towards my stories. I thought of throwing away my USB’s and leaving my writing career behind never to return. But I resisted that temptation and kept them safe.
I didn’t have any of the physical effects of burnout, just most of the emotional. Irritability, disinterest and low mood. Currently, those effects have lessened quite a bit and since I’ve gone back to the gym I’m seeing improvements. But I’ve developed a feeling of inadequacy in regards to my writing. Hopefully, that will go away as soon as my mood improves.
I’m hoping that once my burnout goes away I’ll be able to return to my writing and zoom through all the stories I want to finish 🙂
My goals for this year are to return to my pre-burnout writing routine. I’ve lost so much time since this time last year. I wonder with regret at how much I could have achieved. Maybe I could have so many drafts completed, maybe a few more stories ready for publication. But I can’t go back in time. I can only move forward with intention.
I had a thought today, what if I don’t get over my burnout completely until the one year anniversary ticks over. That’s next May! Right now I have no desire to write anything (despite writing this post) in fact, I’d rather shit in my hands and clap.
And I was starting to improve only a month or so ago too. I had slogged it out and got a novella out and did a draft of another, but maybe that was the reason. I pushed myself too much too soon.
The idea of story creation seems tedious and I’m having feelings of inadequacy. But that’s ridiculous because I’ve improved so much in recent times and I got the stories mapped out. But at the same time what if I fuck it up? What if later on, I find out that there is a better way to write it? What if I’m not the right on to tell this story? (But come on I’m the one that thought it up, I’m the only one to tell it) I’m all mixed up and nothing can really do anything about it but me.