How I Broke my Immature Illusions of Inspiration

It’s like this dream that haunts you in the middle of the night, when the more pressing concerns of your day-to-day life have calmed down.  To have the potential to create something truly great and unique to you, it can be a cruel burden to bear.   This article will detail my process of keeping my feet moving towards my dream.

I could recognize that I had a knack for writing,.  If financial security was not a factor, I would have been able to say that a dream career would have been in the writing field.  Maybe even journalism.  Writing was a good outlet for me.

What I was,  was a walking nervous breakdown with a penchant for black-out drinking and couch-wetting.  Discipline was a dirty word and nothing lay beyond that glorious explosion of instant gratification.  When I got sober (and the perpetually dry couch had lost its ‘wow!’ factor), I wanted to live.

Inspiration would eventually strike me like a fist to write a book.  I got to work, and then…nothing.   A folder with dog-eared pieces of notebook paper curling around the edges (where I kept my rough-draft pages) sat in the corner of my bedroom.  It put a bad taste in my mouth every time I saw it.  It was like the folder had contempt for me in its very fibers, and I felt myself a worthy recipient.  Soon, I got myself into silly predicaments with women at AA meetings, frustrations of my own making at work, and general imbalance of mood.

Because I was becoming bored. (more…)