What if no one cares about what I have to say? Is this going to be received the way I want it to? Will people be upset that I’m writing about mental health and not indie publishing?
These types of worrisome questions pop into my head, especially while preparing an article like this one. The truth is, I worry a lot about things outside of my control. And I’m not alone. The most common mental health disorder in the world is anxiety at nearly 4% of the global population, with some reports indicating that in the past year, roughly 32% of women and 25% of men in the U.S. have suffered from anxiety symptoms.
There’s a big difference between worrying about what people think of a post and having a diagnosed disorder. But how much of ourselves is cordoned off, subdued, silenced, and shunned into the recesses of our minds because of worry? As writers, worrying has the potential to filter our thoughts and actions so thoroughly that we may never write at all. In some cases, it could be the most detrimental aspect of our process, causing friction where friction shouldn’t exist and removing our ability to follow our passions in a clear and achievable way.
No one-off solution addresses everyone’s unique circumstances. However, it is essential to pause, take a breath, and consider the root causes of our distress. We shouldn’t have to carry that weight throughout the day like a sack of unread emails and red social media notifications.
“Then what, Winston? Why are you mentioning this in a newsletter about writing and indie publishing?”
Worry affects us all, no matter our personality, profession, relationship status, race, religion, identity, or subscriber count. Maybe sharing my experiences dealing with self-doubt and procrastination will help others break free from whatever is holding them back from achieving their goals. Maybe, just maybe, not worrying about whether I should publish something or not will allow for growth and learning in ways I hadn’t considered before.
Worrying doesn’t have to be that indecipherable monster looming in the shadows of the closet. By turning light to it, we might dispel that irrational fear and confront the demons once thought to have a hold over us, only to find that their gangly limbs were two-dimensional all along, incapable of restraining us in their terror-inducing shroud of darkness.
In this article, I speak from personal experience to discuss some root causes of worry, its effects on me, and potential ways to overcome it. I hope you stick around to read the rest. Please share it with anyone you think might need to hear it. I appreciate your continued support for independent writing!
I’m not a medical professional, and this isn’t medical advice. If you need help, please reach out to the National Hotline for Mental Health at 9-8-8 in the U.S., or for my international readers, seek out your respective equivalent organizations. Meanwhile, I’m always available to chat about life, the universe, and everything at storyletter@protonmail.com.
Don't worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing Bubblegum.
~ Baz Luhrmann, The Sunscreen Song
Writing the Root Causes
Our daily headspace can sometimes be unhealthy, and mental unhealthiness can manifest in the physical realm. If one can determine the root cause of distress, there’s a good chance of curbing it or acknowledging it enough to deal with the aftereffects. However, it can be difficult to pinpoint precisely what is causing the unseen trauma affecting our mental and physical states.
One way to lure out this ethereal menace is to write it into existence. Journaling has helped me externalize my thoughts, thus allowing me to externalize my deepest concerns. It also allows for unique word association and tethering ideas that would have otherwise been disconnected in the tumultuous ebbs and flows of the cerebral experience. By physically writing down my thoughts, I’m allowing myself to be present in the moment, which enables opportunities for greater self-awareness and understanding.
Along this ongoing journey of self-discovery, I’ve realized a few things about this externalization process. Or what we can better categorize in this context as “writing.” I feel a compulsion to write because, at the crux of it, I’m unable to articulate what I want to say most of the time. I freeze up in social settings, stumble over my word choices, and often desire to express conflicting arguments simultaneously. The luxury of writing is that I have time. I have options. I can guide those willing to participate in my sphere of consciousness in a more well-tailored version of the capital ‘M’ Me.
Of course, it’s never fully “Me”. Text lacks the mannerisms, the laughs, the facial expressions, and the overall emotion of vocalized language. But something is compelling about reading the written mind, something that adds layers of depth beneath the surface one might not be able to reach when dealing with in-person discussion. Granted, this is the culmination of my own character, formed by my specific relationships and life experiences as a result of many factors, including the unbidden effects of constant worry.
Some days, I worry that I’m not doing enough. I worry that what I am doing isn’t good enough or that I did the wrong thing altogether. I even worry that I worry too much. On the other hand, there are times when I feel like I’ve just written the best thing I’ve ever written, that I’m grateful for everything around me, that I’m thankful for each person in my life, and that at the end of each day, I’m satisfied that I tried to be a better person than I was the day before.
Fighting the cycle of worry can feel like swimming against the current. But, hey, treading water is still breathing. And breathing is living.
The ego could be defined simply in this way: a dysfunctional relationship with the present moment.
~Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth
Effects of Worrying on Writing
When I sit down to write an article or story, I wonder, “What do I believe to be true?”
I ask myself this question regularly because I’m constantly navigating the thoughts, influences, and beliefs of others, and I question what thoughts are really mine. And then, when I go to propagate those thoughts, how might the repercussions of those ideas affect me and my image? This worry is explicitly derived from the master puppeteer known as the ego.
The effect of worrying about what others will think of my beliefs is an internalized devaluing of who I was, who I am, and who I want to become. Or rather, an over-inflated notion of self-preservation. This form of self-censorship is probably the most damaging because it’s a non-starter. It prevents the writer from exploring and developing new ways of thinking. It forces one to grapple with one's own importance and meaning in the world, or even more frightening, the lack thereof. This is the ego at work, and it’s pretty good at working overtime.
Dennis Simsek, The Anxiety Guy, explains in his 2019 article how to overcome the ego:
The ego isn’t unbeatable, and it’s greatest weakness is self-awareness. People that go through life unconsciously thinking and reacting based on the emotion that’s felt will live a life of emotional slavery. Don’t allow this to be you. Begin building your self awareness whenever the extreme judgements of the ego show up, put on your new lenses to perceive the situation differently, and act on that new perception so that in time you can move closer and closer towards inner peace.
Overcoming worry is a bit different. I now view worry as the ego disallowing the soul to be at peace with itself in the moment. Thus, contentment is the greatest weapon against worry and the best way to address the depression of the past and the anxiety of the future.
Inner peace can only be achieved by wrangling in fears of self-doubt and the potentiality of external scrutiny. Because when no one is there to support you and your writing, you must become your best advocate. Thinking independently and self-actualizing will enable better relationships, better ideas, and, ultimately, better writing.
The thing about worrying is that 99% of the time, the thing you were worrying about doesn’t even come to pass.
Ways of Overcoming Worry
I procrastinate because I worry that I won’t be able to adequately express how I feel, explain my point of view, or describe the scene as I see it in my mind. It isn’t until I feel an overwhelming pressure to finish what I’ve started that I sit down and force it out. Then there’s the post-publication worry of whether a post performs as expected, which I’ll address in a separate post.
It should be stated that a bit of worry is natural. It keeps us in check with our responsibilities and on time to work every day. Without worry, I probably would have never finished writing this post and checked it several times for grammatical errors (some of which I’m sure I still missed). It’s moderating the levels of stress and anxiety that I’m working on and is what I felt compelled to share with you.
There are several ways to address the worry we feel as writers and human beings. The following solutions might not work for you, but the important thing is to understand that we’re made up of biological networks, and these systems can be hacked, re-wired, and rebooted. Sleep is probably one of the most efficient ways to align these networks and back in operational order. But here are a few other options that have helped me when I’m feeling anxious:
Walk - I walk my dog twice daily, forcing me to get outside my head and into the present, physical world. It’s also an excellent way to activate my body and reset my brain.
Take a break - I went into an almost involuntary hiatus from Substack over the summer due to life events. This 3-4 month period where I was away from my computer was a welcomed break after two years of posting weekly and the subsequent stress that came with that. Engaging in other hobbies might also benefit your mental fortitude.
Write what you want - The pressure to write what is expected of us can be daunting. I find it much more enjoyable to write what I find valuable and meaningful in my life, and if a reader connects with that sentiment, it’s a bonus.
Value your own time - Sometimes, friends and family who aren’t writers don’t understand the commitment it takes to be a writer. Social pressure to hang out and do what they enjoy can impede your personal goals. It’s essential to set those boundaries and establish your priorities.
Be wary of expectations - Life tends to go the way of the unexpected. One chapter of your serial fiction novel might be excellent but get zero traction, while a rushed, barely edited one gets all the attention. You never know what will happen, so there is no use in worrying about it. This doesn’t mean diminishing your quality standards because ‘who knows?!’ it just means that nothing is perfect, and as long as you’re happy with it, you can be satisfied that you did your best.
Temper the fire inside - We each have a burning story to tell, one that we’d like to add to the great bonfire of life. The risk of letting that fire get out of control before we can offer it up is that it could destroy us from the inside. Our ego fuels that fire in our hearts, but we should give it just enough to stay alight with hope rather than the destructive nature of self-loathing.
Thanks for reading!
Of course, I’d love to hear from you on this topic. The above material is not comprehensive, so I expect many differing views on the subject matter. If you’ve written on the topic, please share your posts in the comments for everyone’s benefit. Don’t forget to subscribe to follow all things indie publishing!
This is such an insightful post and I think a lot of people will relate. It's natural for us to worry in this way, though to greater or lesser degrees. I related so much to what you said about feeling more comfortable being able to take time with your thoughts in written form than when speaking. My mind races, and it's easy for me to become flustered in social settings or to run thought experiments in real time (not recommended!), and I love the way writing allows me to pause, think, choose my words, and revise a phrase or idea....
But then, there is the tension of knowing, now that I have had the luxury of that time, all the excuses are stripped away. Whatever I have written is not an accident. Unlike a thoughtless slip of the tongue in casual conversation, it is intentional and I have to own it. That's scary. That has sometimes made me hesitate when hitting "publish."
The things I try to remember when I start to feel that nagging "should I/shouldn't I" feeling creep up on me: 1) perfection is impossible and failures are inevitable, so own imperfection, 2) everyone is entitled to their perspective, including me, 3) every post is a brief snapshot of an evolving writer and (despite social media) doesn't define me forever, 4) I have no control over anyone's beliefs, opinions, or preferences, but I can stay true to my own, and 5) for better or worse, I'm stuck being me, so I might as well enjoy it; I'm not about to ask permission to be myself or say what I think.
I wrote a little about this kind of thing (not worrying about what critics think) a while back:
https://jmelliott.substack.com/p/thats-just-like-your-opinion-man
Well, this is something I don't really know how to address. I don't worry about things I have no control over. I have no control over how people will react to what I write. But I only write fiction. I don't write essays. That gives me a freedom. I've had more than enough reasons to feel anxiety. I worked in a sawmill starting at 19. We've been on strike at least 7 times. And the mill burned down to the ground once--that means everything you have, all your savings, are lost. Not an easy thing to contend with when you have a wife and two kids. You do what you have to do in order to make ends meet. But you have to tell yourself, it's not in my control. Nothing is in my control. So you go out and find a job that will help pay the bills until the strike is over, or the mill is rebuilt.
I write for no other reason than to entertain myself. I'm selfish that way. Sure, I have this great platform to put my stuff out on, but even if I didn't, I'd still write. I've been writing since I was 14-15 years old. I never thought to publish anything because I never thought I was good enough, so I didn't bother with it. I'd send stuff out, it would come back. I'd try again. It didn't matter if I sold or not, not to my mind. I was never going to make more money writing than I was working in a sawmill. I was making more money in the mill than half the people I knew who had gone to college, or University. When I finally did get published, it was with an online magazine that didn't pay. I've never been paid for my writing, until now. I'm making a whopping $193 for this year.
And as for anxiety, if even anyone should feel it, I suppose it would be me. I had a horrific accident at work in which my best friend died under the wheels of my machine, having slid under it on a sheet of ice. They were very concerned about anxiety, and possible suicide, and all of that shit. I told my counsellors I have a mantra that I've been telling myself since I first learned it in High school English Lit class: "The mind is its own place, and of itself can make a Hell of Heaven, or a Heaven of Hell." It might not be exact, but it's worked for me.
If people don't like what I write, that's not on me, that's on them. I like my writing. I think I'm pretty good. I tell myself I've got 20 years to prove to the world that I'm worth their time and effort. When I hit 1000 subscribers, my serial work goes up behind the paywall. My short stories will always be free. I'm thinking within 2 years I'll have 1000...but I'm not worried about it. I might get there sooner, and I might not. I lose subscribers. It used to bother me...a lot. But again, that's not on me, is it, that's on them. When I go paid, I'll probably lose a lot of subscribers, but maybe I won't. Maybe they'll want to stay and read my short stories? Maybe they'll convert? Maybe they won't? Are these questions for me to lose sleep over? No. Why? Because they're not in my control. The only thing in my control is what I write. As long as what I write sounds good to me, what more can I ask of myself? If I second guess myself, I'm never going to hit the "Post" button.