Whenever someone asks me what I do, I tell them I work as a creative writer. But when I am sitting alone in my room, my rolling gaze falls upon the heaps of papers and notebooks lying scattered, and I am forced to wonder whether I am really a writer.
No matter how many paintings you have created, unless you put out an exhibition to showcase them, how the world is going to know that you are a painter. And I, unbelievingly, have been doing the same mistake, over and over again. Just cramming up my laptop folders with documents, stuffing my notebooks with jottings and notes that would probably never be read, unless I am dead and my greedy grandchildren sell my stuff to become billionaires. Am I dependent on my grandchildren to tell the world that I am a writer and I love words and my mind is constantly churning out weird, bizarre stories?
Maybe I am. I was.
I like to call it “hesocrastination,” a portmanteau of hesitation and procrastination I created from an online tool. Internet is an amazing place. So many tools and apps make you think that you’re Mister Bill Gates and you’re managing such a giant network of information. If you think about it, it sounds so juicy – all these facts and books and information and stories, so easily accessible to you. AI has made things even more exciting. Anything you want to know, internet is here for you.
But what it cannot teach you is how to get out of this trap of “hesocrastination.” So, this time, instead of just stuffing away my thoughts on scraps of papers and boring blue Microsoft folders, I decided to take a chance and just give myself away.
Often times, we read about famous people who left libraries of their diaries with interesting snippets, notes they made while standing beside a lake, emotions they felt after a lover left them, those deep-dark thoughts that kept on racing through their mind haunting them all the time, those bizarre sketches and diagrams they made that made even the great scientists scratch their heads – if people had read their diaries while they were still alive, maybe they would have connected to them from a much deeper level.
I am not someone who will judge anyone, because, in a way, I am one of them. It feels terrifying to share yourself, up-close, with the world. It feels daunting, shameful, anxious, fearful, to stand at the center of the world, with people staring at you, and still be able to affirm that, this is who I am and I am okay with it.
When it comes to being a good great writer, I still
have a long way to go. The projected version of my resume has a lot of voids
that need to be filled. But this is just to say, that my struggles with hesocrastination
are finally dissolving into the space of my carefreeness. And maybe, maybe I am
saying, after all these years I am finally beginning to stand at the center of
the world and be comfortable with all those people staring at me, and still be
able to affirm that, this is who I am and I am okay with it.
Yes, even with my disturbing hesocrastination tendencies.
The monster has been seen and now I am unstoppable. At least
in this moment, and in this moment, this moment is all that, that matters to
me.
If you are struggling with hesocrastination disorder, I am here for you and I wish you the same.
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