A Blog Post About Posting a Blog Post
Or, why it took me ages to write four pages on my own thoughts…
I have been writing random snippets for as long as I can remember. I have a tin full of scraps of paper, receipts, small brochures and more; with sentences, lyrics, names I want to remember, epiphany moments, and story ideas scrawled all over them. Notebooks I have not cracked open in years collect dust as they hold poems to paragraphs of words I decided to string together. So naturally, the next step of my journey would be posting online, in the hopes that maybe some people in the world will enjoy what I have to say as much as I enjoy writing it out.
The above paragraph took me the better part of two hours to write. 104 words. 31 seconds to read out loud. I know, I checked. I read it in the most natural manner I could, as if I was reciting it for a presentation. Before rereading, counting, and reciting my opening paragraph, I wrote the title, stared at my blinking cursor, then I had the idea to look up a recipe for Nutella coquito.
As it turns out, however, most of the recipes say, “Hey, you know how you’ve been making coquito your entire adult life and most definitely do not need to look up a recipe because you make it how you like anyway? Try adding some Nutella.” Maybe that was stated more professionally on the recipe blogs, but the sentiment is the same. I looked up three blogs on the subject, one of which referenced the first blog I checked.
After that important bit of research, I looked up “what to write in a blog post?” Surprise, surprise, the answer is: Whatever you want. Another piece of information I could have guessed. I then looked for my lip balm, put some on, put some more on to make my lips feel extra moisturized. Stood up and walked in a small circle. Looked for a different lip balm because one is tinted and one is not and that matters more than you know, and finally I sat back down, placing my hands back on the keyboard in stuck frustration.
Cue the Executive Dysfunction
Once in my last years of university, I finished two final papers for a 4000 level literary course in one day and got B’s on both, which raised my class credit enough from failing to passing. That is not meant to be a brag and I don’t advise doing the same. Finish your work on time, the earlier the better, it makes life far less stressful. I mention it as an example of what I can get done when the pressure is on, but please, do as I say, not as I do. I am a chronic procrastinator. I’d probably be the queen of procrastination if I didn’t run late to the coronation. Zing!
A bit off topic, but I also love lame jokes.
Here’s a bit of info on chronic procrastinators: sometimes we love it. I did not just save those final papers for the day they were due, I waited until they were a day late. Because a little voice in my brain wondered if I could still get a qualifying passing grade at the last minute coupled with the late points deduction. I had done the math a couple of days before, decided I was too bored to do the work on time, and said, “Screw it. Let’s see what happens.” Seeing I still passed despite the rushed effort sent a small endorphin rush through my numb brain. Those passing grades were a small confirmation bias that I can have poor habits and still be good enough to get by. Sometimes in life you just need to know that, despite everything happening, you can still get by.
Here’s more info on chronic procrastinators: most times we hate it. I’ve often wondered what kind of grades I could have received had I not lost points for late work, or what kind of opportunities I could have had if I didn’t miss the due date on a job submission. Countless concerts, contests, and commemorations crushed. Time spent writing alliterative sentences instead of completing a post. I don’t do this on purpose. I love writing. When I get too flustered to speak I can still put words on a page better than the way they flow through my brain. At least, I can when my brain allows it.
Executive dysfunction is defined by Wikipedia as, “a disruption to the efficacy of…the group of cognitive processes that regulate, control, and manage other cognitive processes.” In other words, a glitch in thinking, awareness, and to a certain degree, self-control. For most people it is a passive occurrence before your brain snaps back into focus. For some people, like me, the brain treats important tasks like a monster your child-self is certain is lurking in dark corners.You convince yourself this monster cannot hurt you as long as you pretend not to see it. What makes executive dysfunction even more frustrating is the brain does not distinguish between tasks that are enjoyable vs distasteful. The results of which are me staring at the ceiling, unmoving, while hating myself for not using that very same time to figure out my monthly budget or read a good book, or lets say, write a blog post using thoughts coming from my own damn mind.
I will admit, sometimes my procrastination is laziness. I can feel the difference in mental willpower when I am purposefully not getting an activity done, and when I am trudging through brain mud. Laziness feels like the remnants of a tantrum without the kicking and screaming. It’s saying, “I don’t wanna!” while still putting on shoes. Or rolling out of bed after snoozing the alarm three times, praying there’s no traffic on the way to work. A block in willpower feels more paralyzing. Shaking hands hovering over the keyboard, unable to put down the necessary pressure. Overeating when I’m not hungry to convince myself I’m doing some task, until I feel physically sick to distract from the mental nausea. There is a level of vexation that far surpasses the moodiness of crossing one's arms in laziness but eventually getting things done. A screaming in my head, “Please! Please move! Get up! Please do something!” while the hours of the day slip into restless nights with no progress from chores to longing hobbies, until I fall into a pit of depression which switches off my want to fight.
Everyone is a Bit Mental, Even Without a Disorder
In case you were curious, yes, I do have diagnosed mental issues, and one of them is Inattentive ADHD. Over the years I’ve learned coping mechanisms, and keep myself together in a vague way with yoga, breathing techniques, organization plans that sometimes work, and a nice dose of medication and therapy. And while I do not want to discredit the level of difficulty a mental disorder causes—I would not need to see a psychiatrist once a month if my brain wasn’t a bit fritzy—I have been around enough creative types to know it is not uncommon to suddenly have the urge to mop the kitchen ceiling right when it has been decided that now is the time to work.
This phenomenon is not unique to people with mental disorders, but rather unique to humans in general. I suppose this need to distract yourself to avoid work could occur with other species as well. I won’t be so bold as to speak on any other creatures aside from humans, except perhaps cats. But seeing as cats do what they want, when they want, I would say their lack of work ethic is not a condition found in a selected few of their species, as much as a known lifestyle choice. When you are revered as a god among men for a long enough period of time I assume it becomes intrinsically linked to your DNA.
As much as I could go on about cats and their brilliant subjugation of humans throughout the centuries, this is meant to be about writing a blog, and/or the lack thereof. Before I started this endeavor I thought the hardest bit would be creating the website, considering my mind overflows with opinions I enjoy expressing. As it turns out, choosing a color scheme and font size was not as complicated in this generation of prefab layouts and continuous computer use. Therefore, this website has technically been prepared for ages, awaiting the day I click “publish” with content for all the world to consume. And I have content, oodles of content, with research and perspective galore.
Let me rephrase that last sentence to include the word “ideas.” I have content *ideas*. Don’t get me wrong, for years one of the most difficult things discussed in the many writing classes I have taken is a matter of ideas. A quick search online will show pages upon pages of writing prompts to get people started because so many long to write as a hobby or career and need a little something to get them going. However, writing, as with anything that requires general continuous thought, can be hard. Anyone can have that spark of an idea. That one eureka moment. Dinosaur sharks in space! Sentient pens! A walkie-talkie that plays feedback of your death! And those are just quick spitfire thoughts I came up with by glancing down at the pen, walkie, and Sharkasaurus Buzz Aldrin on my desk. Developing a proper beginning, middle, and end of a concept is the difficult bit that turns us all into micro mental cases.
My personal hypothesis is our fear of not being good enough, whether we are willing to admit it or not. Most times we think that is a reflection on how others will see us, but I think deep down it is how we will see ourselves. We build layers of ourselves to protect our personalities. The way I present myself at work may not be the same as the way I present myself at a nightclub, which may not be the way I present myself on the bus, or at a grocery store, or to my friends' parents even though we are fully grown. And while me and my friend both know their mom cannot technically tell us we can’t hang out together, the underlying presence of needing maternal approval before we both proceed to get the right level of drunk on karaoke night still lingers.
Creativity is raw. Creativity leaves us exposed to nothing but ourselves. All the layers get peeled back, and we are alone with our own thoughts, our own words, our own effort, and the creeping idea that maybe any work we put down will not meet our personal expectations. I know I am not perfect, and the concept of perfection is flawed since no one is perfect, so how can we know perfection if it passes our way? But I still become paralyzed when I know what I am writing is not brilliant in the first go. I am aware this thought process is silly. Sure, some people are naturally gifted, but even the most gifted must practice, and a writer cannot practice without performing the task. The most common piece of writing advice is to get it written. Write that “shitty first draft” which can be improved upon later. Yet so many, from novices, to middling writers such as myself, to skilled authors still have that block and hesitation. A self-preserving instinctual madness.
So Here I Sit
I did not decide in advance how long I would make this post. I figured I would allow myself to go on until I either felt I was rambling far too much (my natural state of mind) or until my energy was dipping and my thoughts started attempting incomplete conclusions. I have currently reached the second feeling, so we shall see how this last bit goes. As a general assessment I don’t hate what I’ve written, an accomplishment for which not enough people give themselves credit. Naturally, I did not write all this out in one go of a bad first draft to edit later, but rather writing a section, reading it, moving on then going back, erasing a sentence or two, only to rewrite the same thing, and overall wanting to bang my face on the keyboard until “QWERTY” was printed backwards on my forehead.
Still, at this point I’ve written 2,076 words not including the title, and that is far more than I had written last month, so I’ll strike it as a win. And with this complete I will officially have a fully realized piece of content. Postulations painstakingly put on pre-programmed paper to please the printless people. My brain said I had to waste time a bit longer by figuring out how to put that sentence together before I could finish this piece. A little iteration if you will.
Ok, I am done with the puns.
