 As writers, we all experience the same phenomena, I imagine, where the words just don’t come easy but we’re up against a deadline, or trying to hit an insane daily word count, a quota we’ve foolishly set for ourselves. But many more of us experience this same kind of thing in real life, where we just can’t find the words to say how we’re feeling. “I’m just a bit low; I’ll be okay,” or “I’m fine. I just need some space,” or something equally bland, equally dismissive. In their place, these things are okay to say if they work, if they give us the space we need to get through that day, that hour, that moment where everything seems futile, or worse still, everything seems to be going to shit. Unlike writing though, where everything can be unsaid, or restated to give more balance, more context, the real world offers no such buffer zone. Once the poisoned flies have left our mouths, they’re out there in the real world, laying their foul eggs in people’s hungry ears, and spreading like a swarm. And at least as writers we have an outlet for times like these. We can use our craft as an excuse not to socialise without giving reasons apart from “I need to get my submission in”. And we really can bury ourselves in our stories, which, like any hobby or pastime, or – if we’re lucky enough – our jobs, can be a great form of escapism. Call this avoidance if you like, especially when there’s something else you should be tackling, like patching up a relationship after hasty words have been spoken, or doing that chore that’s looking at us like a gremlin, tapping its feet and demanding we pay it some attention. But there are times when both things are true, when we need some downtime, some headspace, some avoidance from reality, but we can’t even face the story we’ve been writing or the world we’ve been creating and living in for the past few months. As an artist (my definition: someone who creates art, whether for pleasure or profit, regardless of perceived quality or quantity) I’m doubly-blessed, because when words fail me, perhaps a quick sketch, or an acrylic, offers me another form of escape. I’m not a professional therapist or counsellor, but if I could offer one piece of advice it would be this: Whether you write, paint, read, or whatever helps pass the loneliest of times, do more of it. Use that as a crutch, as a bridge from one moment to the next, as steps to help you climb from that deep, dark well of despair we all find ourselves in, up to the light, to a position where other people might be kind enough to help us out. Return to your childhood fascinations if you’re able; to seek out the things that made you happy once, and pursue those with the same passion the younger you, the less depressed you, the one with fewer obligations, commitments, deadlines, fear of failure and all those other demons, he you that wasn’t even aware of such things. And relish the pursuit of those pastimes that keep you distracted, give you pleasure, reinforce the who and the what you are deep inside, rather than the façade that society, friends, family, demand we make of ourselves, or the masks we’re forced to wear just to fit in… Of course, a far more common form of writing than the lonely, aspirational authoring of fiction, is what millions of us do all day every day: posting on so-called social media, which really isn’t that social, or is perhaps too social depending on the context. We no longer have a village or community life, where we know and trust everyone (or know who not to trust!), where people are aware of our personality traits, our mannerisms, our background and history, who know when our black dates are likely to be; those that mark the passing of a loved one or some other tragedy. On social media, we’re just another ‘friend’ to be liked, shared, or argued with! I often say I have 4,995 critics on Facebook, but only 5 friends. Over the years as I’ve met people in person, those numbers aren’t right anymore, but my point stands. We used to live in a world where we didn’t need to be constantly seen, constantly stroked, or where we’re constantly critiqued or criticized, except by those around us whom we love and trust –parents and family, schoolfriends or work colleagues, and so on. Instead, we post and comment in the hope that complete strangers out there agree with us; that we don’t get blasted for holding an unpopular opinion, or trolled by the vicious minority, or those with a specific agenda which pushes up against our own opinions and beliefs. So, when you’re at your bleakest, avoid social media, or use it to reach out only to those who care. I’m not sure now where I’m going with this except, choose your words, and when they don’t come, say nothing. But if help is needed, ask for it. Not blasting widely, publicly on social media, although that can work, but in person. Find a trusted buddy or three, whether from your real life, or maybe just a Facebook friend, but someone who you can confidentially and confidently put something too, who’ll act as a sounding board. Or, perhaps better yet, seek out a professional who can coax the words from you long before you feel the need to scream obscenities from a hilltop – although that can help too –or do harm to yourself because you can no longer keep the voices and their demands contained. I lost a close friend in my life and I recently read his note to the world – his final words – to remind myself of the place he was at, the words he’d chosen to use at that time. I can’t say what would have happened if we’d spoken face to face instead, or if speaking to a trained support person would have helped him. Nobody can. But I wish he’d given us the chance. His life ended that night because of a decision he made, but if faced with that decision the next night, the week after, a year later, just maybe he’d have chosen differently, and perhaps different words might have been spoken, uplifting words, inspiring words, words that empower rather than enslave, words that motivate rather than supress… Who knows? ~ Sadness, Anxiety, and Depression are three major-league serial killers, but we need to remember two things that may help us to keep our balance: That these feelings aren’t shameful things, and are nothing unique to us, we need to always remember that. They’re part of being human, the shadows that follow us through life. We also need to remember that although they’re there, whispering, shouting, screaming sometimes, we need to stop up our ears from such callings. Theirs are the voices that tell us we’re nothing special, we’re not good enough, we won’t make it, they (whoever they are) won’t like us, we won’t enjoy it, we’re not worthy... But whatever those gremlins whisper in our ears when the night-time comes, they’re the words we’ll need to shut out. And when the black dog is snapping at our heels, that’s the sound we’ll need to stop. To turn and face it and command it to go away, even if we can’t do it on our own. Sometimes help is the only answer, and we all need it. Above all, we all need help finding the right words to say, yet sometimes it’s about finding the words we need to hear, and to repeat those words, to take ownership of them and turn them inwards: “You will be okay… I will be okay… Tomorrow will be better for me... These voices will quieten down… My doubts will give way to my success... One day… Things won’t be as bad as I think they are now… Maybe tomorrow, or next month, or next year. It will be worth it in the end.” Steve Dillon Following the incredibly time-consuming (and literally life-changing) charity anthologies The Refuge Collections, I began a new publishing venture, Things in the Well. Under this banner I’ve published approximately 15 anthologies, charity magazines, collections of single-author stories, and my own weird fiction and poems in the darkly surreal collections The Beard and Other Weirdness and Deeper, Darker Things and Other Oddities. Some of my stories have been appearing as reprints in other publications lately, which is nice. I think that’s enough about me, but feel free to catch me online: FaceBook.com/stevedillonwriter, e: DillonStephen@hotmail.com or Twitter @ThingsInTheWell web: http://ThingsInTheWell.com    Comments are closed.
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