Dealing with writing paralysis

I’ve been thinking about writing blog entries on this website for a while. I’m not really a social media person, but I still wanted a space where I could share my thoughts and my progress with my beloved readers. I considered starting a YouTube channel, making a Substack, or creating another platform altogether, but everything felt too confusing. I wanted something easy. A place where, if you wanted to know more about me or follow my work, you could come here. Hence this blog.

I really hope all of you are doing well. I haven’t updated my fanfiction in a while because I’ve been dealing with a lot of anxiety around my career and my creativity. I’m not struggling with writer’s block. I’m struggling with writing paralysis. Every time I sit down to write, my throat tightens, my chest gets heavy, and my gut twists into knots.

Don’t get me wrong, I love writing. I love making stories and sharing them. The problem is that I’ve attached my self-worth to my output. I’ve always been like that. If I create something, it has to be good. Amazing, even. And unfortunately, I am never satisfied. Even when I do like something I’ve made, the joy never lasts more than a few minutes. Then I either completely blank out and stop thinking about it, or I immediately start thinking about what’s next, and what I can do better next time.

When I do find comfort in what I could create next, I get obsessed with vanity metrics, trying to prove to myself that I did something right… but of course, even that is never enough.

For a long time, I managed to push myself to create by shifting the stress factor toward production. Instead of stressing about whether my writing was good enough, I installed an extension in my Obsidian setup that times me and sends notifications when I’m not writing fast enough. Instead of standing there, paddling in place, I’m now being chased by a ruthless shark, and since I want to survive, I write.

It worked for a while. I wrote. A lot. But every time I opened my writing software, I still felt ill. My body was slowly starting to associate writing with danger.

Because of this sustained stress, I developed severe eczema. At first it was on the back of my neck, then on my left ring finger, and soon it spread to both of my hands, arms, legs, and torso. It was a crippling, itchy, bloody mess.

I was embarrassed to show my hands. I had insomnia, and I was generally unwell. Of course, I know that writing is not the only reason these symptoms appeared. It is probably tied to deeper self-worth and identity issues, but writing, something I love and something I’ve done since I was a child, brought all of it to the surface.

I’m learning that it is essential to detach your identity from your output. That every creative endeavour is, and should be, a humbling experience. One that forces you to confront your own inadequacies. But it doesn’t have to be painful. With a better mindset, it can be a fun, thrilling adventure.

I started seeing a therapist about these issues, and I hope that what I learn during these sessions will help someone else out there.

You’re not alone.

There is nothing wrong with you.

I firmly believe that we’re here on this Earth to learn and grow, and that it is our one and only purpose in this life. It just so happens that dealing with perfectionism, self-worth, and creativity are some of the courses we chose to take.

On this website, I will share what has helped me, in the hope that it will help you (or someone you love) too.