Publishing Depression
That sinking feeling from going too long without publishing
I sit down in my black roller chair and scoot it closer to the desk.
My hand reaches for the mouse and moves the pointer over the Chrome icon. Three more clicks and I’m scrolling through the list of notes I’ve generated over the past week.
Thoughts, ideas, stories. Some scribbles. Some detailed outlines. Things that may or may not be worth sharing with strangers on the internet.
They’re all just sitting there. Gawking at me like a list of chores on a Friday evening.
“It’s barely been a week,” I thought to myself. “Why am I feeling this way?”
“One week is way too long,” a sinister voice in my head whispers back.
“Are you a writer or not?” It feels like Voldemort is talking to me from the backside of my skull.
My chest tightens a bit. My mind wanders down a lonely one-lane road.
Today, I have nowhere to be, nothing to do. It’s the one day each week that I’m supposed to “rest”.
Yet here I am. Sitting in my own guilt and self-loathing. I feel unaccomplished. Unworthy. As if all of the hours I’ve worked during the week apparently meant nothing.
Why?
Because I’ve neglected one of the big things that keeps me up at night — not moving the needle in the right direction. Not creating.
And so I open up one of the notes titled “Publishing depression”.
It reads:
“That sinking feeling from going too long without publishing something”.
“Sounds about right,” I think to myself.
Then I move my blinking cursor to the bottom and start word-vomiting whatever comes to mind.
Some time later, I’m finished writing. I edit and now here I am about to launch it.
I feel…relief. The dark thoughts are gone. I’m happy again.
For now.
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