Giving Up

I was just reading Michelle D. Argyle’s blog The Problem With the Advice "Never Give Up" and it made me ask a question I didn’t know the answer to: At what point do I give up? Before you think the poor author is a killjoy, this is something I’ve been wondering for a while. It’s also the one thing hopeful writers like myself don't want to talk about.

I love to write. Scratch that, I live to write. I don’t actually love it, it’s more a function ingrained so deeply in me that I can’t stop. It has been eleven years since I first sat down at a word processor and a story began to grow. I was thirteen and I knew in that moment that this was what I had been born to do. ‘

Fast forward to 24 year old me, gathering all my moxy for another big push. The one that takes me over the next hurdle between me and publication. The one that forces me to up my game and be better, be more. And now I’m wondering, why? Why am I doing this? Why have been non-stop, tooth and claw for over a decade? If I stick out for another two years it will officially be half my life.

At first I thought it was that story. You know, the one that pulled me from dreaming to creating. Then maybe I thought it was the money, except nobody really gets onto this journey for the cash. That’s kind of like sitting in basements hoping to get struck by lightening. The only answer I can come up with is this really nebulous combination of loyalty and hope that I can’t seem to make sense of.

I’ve been battling myself over whether or not to continue writing for publication for the past few years. I’ve felt frustrated because I can’t seem to walk away. Why can’t I find a different occupation that would giving me easier access to some kind of external validation? So the question remains; When is that moment when I’ve had enough?  

For me it’s not today. That moment eleven years ago when I felt the rush of typing my first words is still strong. There is nothing else in life that comes as automatically to me as writing. So I keep trying, keep pushing, keep going. But someday the day may come when I don’t. And that will be okay too.