Been going through what artists always have to go through in order to get shit done : a period of hating everything that I have ever done.

I wrote a script for the trailer for Secret Informant, that show I am part of developing. This is the trailer that will be shown to attract funding. So I want it to be perfect.

That’s probably too much pressure for a guy like me. Sad but true.

Anyhow, after dithering a bunch, I wrote… something.

And I hate it. Hate it hate it hate it.

That’s not a problem. That’s just part of art. Every artist in every medium and form makes bad art. This is something I understand.

Nevertheless, writing that putrid piece of crap has kept me from either fixing the fucking thing or starting anew, and people are counting on me. I can’t fuck this up.

So I need to get the fuck over myself as quickly as possible so I can treat the whole thing like a few new task and attack it with my usual zeal.

First step for that, as it turns out, will be talking about it here so I can work through the emotional blockage I am dealing with and get things moving again.

I don’t lack of inspiration, that’s for sure. Love the whole idea of the show, love the plans we have for it, love the people I am working with. Excited to see where this all goes. Eager to get this kind of credit on my resume.

In other words, this is definitely a “me” thing. My mental damage. My weakness of spirit. My path to strength and courage and drive. My recovery.

Somehow, I have to connect with my cocky, confident, charismatic side and use that energy to power through all this psychological garbage to make way for my real self.

Have to keep remembering that. Who I’ve been is not who I am. The real me is nothing like the depressed me. The real me is strong, courageous, bold,. brilliant, and capable of ten miracles a day – 12 if there’s money or sex involved.

I’m a wizard, goddamn it^[1],  For so long, I thought I was useless because the things I couldn’t do were so simple and basic. Things that other people do automatically, without even having to think about it.

But do those things really matter compared to what I can do with my creative and intellectual talents? I would excel in any office. From working in the mail room to being senior manager in charge of development, I could do it all.

And do it damn well, too. I know I have it in me to see unique solutions to problems others find intractable. I could be a heck of a troubleshooter. I also know that I can pinpoint inefficiencies and figure out how to eliminate them. So I could totally be an efficiency expert. And I have a head for certain kinds of strategy. So I might do well in strategic planning as well.

And that’s just administrative stuff. It doesn’t even include my writing skills. I could writer damn near anything in damn near any genre for damn near anyone and it would be pretty goddamned good.

So I know, in my heart, that I can do this. Now let’s back the truck the fuck up and take a look at why I haven’t, yet.

It’s that whole “avoidance” thing,. I was upset by how my first attempt turned out, and that made it hard to think about a new attempt, so I just kept pushing it out of my mind and into the future.

Weak stuff. Unworthy of me. Looked at with the harsh cleansing light of objectivity, it’s clear that I have been dicking around, spending half my day playing Witcher 3 when I should be working on important things.

This is the point where we enter the minefields, however. Because if I excoriate myself for this failing, it weakens my self-esteem and thus the strength I need to continue, as well as making the task even less attractive by putting this huge emotional tag on it that says “YOU ARE A LOSER”.

So that’s the wrong road to go down, even though it feels right and traveling on it is so easy because I have trod its stones so many times before.

What I am trying to develop in myself is the ability to ruthlessly cut off the past. To say to myself “Whatever. It’s in the past. Can’t be changed. Doesn’t matter now. What matters is getting things DONE. Everything else that gets in the way of that is bullshit and needs to be instantly burned to ashes and the ashes flushed away.

I’m working on it.

I realize that part of my problem is that I have been in a world of my own making – otherwise known as my rich inner life – for so long that I lost the ability to separate myself from my thoughts, emotions, ideas, and so on. So any kind of change or lack of faith in them feels like I am cutting off a piece of myself.

And that’s no way to run a railroad, son.

Don’t get me wrong. I am positive that my deep connection with my art is a big part of what makes it good. I wouldn’t risk that for anything.

But when it gets in the way of my actually using my skills, something has to change.

Perhaps the gentler approach of “water under the bridge” would suit me better. Less “FUCK THAT PAST, SCORCHED EARTH MOTHERFUCKER!” and more “Meh, whatever, let’s do the next fun thing!”

Whatever the approach, it’s clear that I have some shit I got to work out before I reach my full potential as a writer..

Good thing I have therapy tomorrow.

I will talk to you nice people again later.