To Write or Not to Write, an Anxiety Missive

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To Write or Not to Write, an Anxiety Missive
(Photo by Uriel Sinai/Getty Images)

Since I became a member here, I have been sitting back wondering if I should actually write an article, or just comment on others. This conundrum that I have been facing is based off of many variables. One, my work schedule in the US Army, two, the fact that besides my work, and my family, and being able to sit and watch sports, my free time to think of a decent article is severely limited, and three, to be bluntly honest, I have been lazy.

I have noticed that there are other people in the same boat as I am, sitting here offering criticism of others without producing their own work so they can do the same. It is not quite hypocritical, but it is close.

Of course there are other reasons behind my not writing an article yet. Or are they excuses? These are the thoughts that go through my head as I sit here in judgement on other people's offerings:

  • Someone has already written the article
  • I will not do the subject justice
  • I am too obsessive to actually finish an article, and publish it

Here I sit, again, reading other writers' works, and putting in my opinionated two coppers. I think to myself—I should just bite the bullet and write something—anything.

Then I think back to the last time I actually wrote, which was senior year in high school, in mid May 1986. Could I actually write something to capture the attention of another reader, if only for a few minutes? Could I actually have something relevant to add to this site?

I continue to sit here at my keyboard, trying to come up with a good subject to write about, and failing. Is there such thing as opinion block? Or the inability to think of any relevant subject in which to write about? It seems to me that the easiest thing to do would be to pick an idea of what to write, and then stumble my way through it— if only for the learning experience.

But what is left of my mind is still a blank. Varied article title ideas flash deep within the cobwebbed confines of my skull, only to disappear like vapor when focused on.

Chagrined, I sit back and take a mental inventory. Three seconds later I am back in the same boat, with no further intrusion of ideas to brighten the pitch black of the creative section of my brain.

Frustrated, I push back my chair. I sit staring blankly at the screen and wonder why I am putting myself through this torture. I'm sure that this site would get along fine without anything besides comments on other articles from me, but the obsessive part of me has taken hold and will not let go until I make the effort.

I stand up and pace in front of the computer, thinking there has to be something, anything that I can write about.

That's when it finally dawned on me. I could write anything that I wanted to.

So I did.

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