I finished writing my short story script yesterday and there is a load off my shoulders you won’t believe! I don’t know why this load was so heavy. All in all I think I only spent a day in total writing it. I knew exactly what I wanted to write and how to write it. So why did I object to finishing it?
I have lots of projects that don’t get finished. I want them finished, no doubt about that, but I can’t make myself do it. Every time I think about starting to finish them, or even just start, I walk into this invisible wall. I bounce off it, get rejected, and pushed the other way. And I go with the flow, take the path of the least resistance. I am not a person to start an argument (well, it depends on which topic, but let’s not discuss this now), I certainly don’t argue with myself. But it is a curious thing that happens, this wall. I call it the P-wall. With the P standing for that ugly word; procrastination. I’d like to pee on it, just to show how I feel about it (such a shame I am not a boy).
I have thought about it over the last decades (yes, it’s not a new thing). Why don’t I want to finish things? Is it a fear of failure? Is it a fear of excelling? Is it a fear of what comes next? There could be so many reasons. I used to be a brilliant student, top of the class material. Until glandular fever was the spoke that was thrown into my wheel. I had it bad. I had it so bad that I had a reactive hepatitis and necrotising tonsillitis with it and have been sleeping for most of my life since. Some doctors say glandular fever only lasts six months. Bullshit I say. I’ve just overcome it and I am nearly half a century old.
The illness didn’t affect my reasoning or intelligence. I just missed a lot of explanation at school as I was always asleep in class. But it did hit my confidence big time. From the self-assured, high-flying student that I was, I was thrown down into the pit of below-average-doers. All of a sudden, I was mundane. And it was a shock. From that moment in time I have never excelled. I passed exams on minimum scores, sometimes only after the third attempt. From excelling in everything I did, I had adjusted to being sub-average.
A lot of self-help stuff (articles, books, psychologists) say ‘just do it.’ Such a short, simple sentence. Just do it. ‘You’re the only one that can change it. Just do it.’ They don’t get that that’s the problem. That’s exactly what I can’t. There is this wall between me and ‘doing it.’ I’d like to break the wall, find a hammer and smash it. I’m sick and tired of seeing what I could have and what could be, as this wall is very transparent and I can see every alluring thing I want on the other side, but not being able to get there.
So for now I scratch at this wall, with my fingernail. One molecule at a time. One day, I hope, this wall will crumble and when this happens I will pound my chest as I stand on its rubble and shout out my conqueror’s roar.