I was in the hospital, in the second month of my stay, lying tangled in sheets on a mattress on the floor.
The nurse had sighed in frustration at me—I forget why—but this I do I remember: she turned her back, and left me lying there. The door shut, not with the jarring of anger, but with the slow creak of apathy. She didn’t care what happened to me.
The silence of the stale room pounded in my ears.
I felt like a piece of crap, like a discarded sock with a hole in the sole.
Is this it? Is this who I really am?
***
Perhaps you’ve had something happen to you like this, too.
A kick in the back when you’re already down.
A rejection from someone you dearly need to love you.
Bad news you have no way of knowing you’ll recover from.
Is this all there is to life? One door shutting after another?
Is this really who I am now?
***
My road to recovery started with that first step up off the floor where I lay, tangled in my own mess.
I had no idea where I was going, or even if I’d be able to keep going.
But one step turned into another, and finally, by God’s grace, I’m here, ten years away from that hospital wing, flown from the coop, feeling the crisp of December air again on my temples.
You always have the choice to get up again, and no one else can make that choice for you. You have to hoist yourself, your hands pushing off, your legs finding ground. You have to trust that someone will be happy to see you up and at ‘em—even if that only Person is God.
***
Are you writing into the void? Does no one care if you write another word? Will no one notice if you never post another time? Have the professionals left you alone in your room to lick your wounds after you placed your heart out there in the form of a query?
You always have the choice to get up again, to keep going. Just like no one can tell you to stop living, no one can tell you to never write again. Only you can make that decision.
***
Think of what decision lies ahead of you. It can be in everyday life or in your writing life. What would it look like to get back up again? To be in it. For real.
What would it mean for your writing career if you knew no one can stop you from writing, only you? That you can always keep going?
***
Thank you for reading!
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