Self-flagellation is the mark of a true writer, right? Of course right!
Everyone with an ounce of self-awareness gets Impostor Syndrome now and again, regardless of what it is they do in life. Sometimes, people have their bout of it and then shrug it off and never look back again, confident in their skills. Other people battle with it in every aspect of their whole lives. I sincerely hope I achieve the former state, but I am dreadfully afraid I’m doomed to wallow in the latter instead. Regardless, Impostor Syndrome is setting in again, starting from a certain writing insecurity and oozing, octopus-like, into other aspects of my daily life. I start out wondering if I can possibly be a real writer, after all I’d rather read than write judging by my hobby-patterns. I don’t write every day, and when I do my word-counts are abysmally low and my work languishes in forgotten corners of my hard-drive. From there it edges into wondering how people could possibly perceive me as a responsible adult, given what I know of my irresponsibility. Besides, age isn’t what makes a person an adult, so how can people possibly say I’m an adult when I’m clearly still a teenager, or maybe even a kid?!
Well, wasn’t that fun? A little blog-trip down the twisting by-ways of the Author’s internal psychoses. Definitely scenic.
The only real way to fight off Impostor Syndrome is internally, though external validation helps bolster your defenses against relapse. However, the certainty it requires to fight back the deadly slump comes from within, not without. Much like a writer’s stories come from some place within themselves, however much those stories may be inspired by outside sources. Maybe that’s why, the more you write, the more your confidence will grow and aid you in throwing off the heavy weight of Impostoritis.
Pardon me while I go boost my self-esteem. And my word-count.
Thought for the Week: “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” Ernest Hemingway
Currently Reading: Wicked by Gregory Maguire