Writing

Back and Here Again

Due to bursts of creative writing energy at the worst possible time (just before bedtime), I have decided to return to blogging. I initially wanted to start a whole new blog (an old habit of mine), but I really have no time to micromanage it. Plus, I want to continue what I have already started here.

Here I am, then, back to my favorite writing exercise (writing about myself. Does that sound conceited or is it socially acceptable since for me it is technically the written equivalent of ‘selfies’?). I am now fortunately in a field that allows me to be verbose, albeit scientifically. I am also now in a field that challenges me to hone all of my communication skills. As a nurse, this is important, but as a psychologist, good communication is what you have to rely on to best help your clients.

I guess the snippets of the missing year (2015) will probably creep into some entries, and I added a whole new category for when I get consumed by dementors and lament about everything (to analyze my thoughts and to have something to show on the next therapy session), although my late night muse is inclined to pitch issues affecting the country today, a huge upgrade from old blog entries (thank heavens for maturity!).

 

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Writing

Relaunch

Today marks the end of my long(ish)-term hiatus from writing/blogging, after suffering from chronic writer’s block. As I am just trying to get back into shape, forgive me if my writing comes off as rusty and riddled with grammatical errors. I do try to proofread, but sometimes a nasty grammatical error still manages to sneak itself in, and when I realize it, it’s too late and I just inwardly gasp in horror. Then I try to reassure myself that these things happen even to the most prolific of writers.

Not that I am a writer. It is actually quite strange for me to acknowledge and say that. I have always identified myself as a writer ever since I wrote and illustrated a series of fairy tales when I was six (published by my own publishing house, Crown Tales, and printed in Manila, 1998. Yes, my ‘books’ had a proper copyright page and everything). Now, after coming back from a dry spell where I can’t seem to squeeze fresh ideas out of my cerebrum or, worse, find myself unable to perfectly weave the right words to what could have been a brilliant piece, I am not so sure I deserve the title anymore.

Perhaps I am just overthinking (as usual) things. I mean, it’s not like other writers haven’t experienced the same problem. I think it is actually a pretty common occurrence. It can also be because a part of me still wants to do this (writing) for a living but, knowing how hard it is to make it as a writer and how there are a shit ton of better writers out there, I try to distance myself from it so I don’t get too disappointed at my lack of belief in my abilities. Even if I know I am really just being honest. Despite my overactive imagination, I am pretty pragmatic when it comes to the future, especially my future.

So I guess I am just doing this for documentation purposes, venting, and as practice to steady the ebb and flow of my writing until it becomes something I will actually enjoy going back to without cringing.

I just hope I remember to update as much as possible, as my worst sin is I am rubbish at maintaining blogs. Trivia: I have around 70+. I’ve been blogging since 2001, if that helps. And don’t get me started on the scattered pieces of notebooks, diaries and scraps of paper lying around, containing at least a decade and a half’s worth of memories.

 

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