Why I Write

on starting and finishing

Is that Spring up there?

You know, I spend a whole lot of time thinking about not writing. It’s a theme. I want to be A Writer for this undefined reason. I struggle with how little I put on the page or the screen. I question its quality and its impact. I shake hands with shame each day as I put myself to bed feeling under-accomplished and lazy.

I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about why I love writing. What happens to me when the words finally come out? Why am I suddenly spitting out words after days or months or a solid year with just a drizzle of inspiration? Where does the need for it come from?

When I was a kid, I wrote in those thin spiral notebook things; I never wanted anyone to read them. I loved the notebooks that came perforated. They were built for secret musings to be shoved in the trash under the pizza crusts and the empty dog food cans so my brother would never read them and tease me.

Writing leeches out the feelings that rush around inside my body poisoning what otherwise might be a generally cheerful demeanor. My favorite writing in high school was the music journals I did in English class, writing sprints for only my teacher’s eyes. I enjoyed how I could listen to lyrics of a song and find a way to relate to it. I liked that I was often forced to consider music my friends encouraged me never to give the time of day to.

When I started writing on this platform I remember it being for one specific reason. I wanted to finish something. I wanted just one thing to put out there and say “it’s done,” because my life has been filled with unfinished projects. (It’s actually been filled with things that are finished, too, but those are never on my mind.) Somewhere along the way, my mindset reverted to its default: I suck at starting things.

Remember that time I started homebrewing? That certainly did not suck.

The screen became every other roadblock I have ever faced. It scoffed at me initiating that simple, repetitive, mundane work task. It mocked me starting my tax return. It pointed its finger at me from behind that game I wanted to program. I had turned a project meant to finish things into another example of how unproductive and unimaginative I am.

The thing about starting something is that so much of it depends on my interest level, and so much of my interest level depends on how worthwhile that something feels. There is no greater challenge than deciding it’s worthwhile to write when I think I am unimaginative and unproductive. I need a change of perspective.

And just in time:

Yes, It's Another ADHD Post

This post arrived just before the 5th anniversary of my ADHD screening process. (I call it my Screeniversary.) It’s a good time to think about what I’ve accomplished instead of what I’m “failing” at. Since 2023 I’ve managed to finish the process of posting 66 times. Sure, 58 of those were in the first two years and I’ve only published 8 times in the last 9 months. But what have I been spending my dopamine on?

Lot of energy to trudge to work these days.

Since November of 2024 I have been in 5 performances. I’ve read in front of people twice, both invitations coming about because I have been recently writing. I’ve also gone out to see other people perform! Those who care how I do at work tell me all of the time how well I am doing there. (Do you see the framing there? I am not sure I will ever feel like I’m more than just treading water at work, if not flailing for survival.) I also spent 6 whole months crafting the most honest writing I’ve ever done.

I didn’t start writing on this platform to remind myself how much I suck at initiative and motivation and perseverance and whatever this month’s motivational calendar says. I came here to write, and it is happening the only way my brain can make it happen.

Late March views.