fake smile

If I'm hurt, I ain't gon' lie about it

When something is meant to work, it’ll come easy. I understand this but have refused to accept it. Since last summer, I’ve struggled to find a fresh writing voice — a tone not weighted by depression and tales from yesteryear. This plight is annoying because my writing is not something I'm usually self-conscious about. I don’t care if people think it’s good because I know it’s good — “read it or don’t” is my typical M.O.

But I’ve been second-guessing and asking for help for a while now. During a writer’s meetup in June 2023, I sat whimpering about how my writing is BIG SAD, and I don't want it to be like that all the time. Then months later, I found myself in a rerun, “I must figure out how not to sound so damn depressing all the time.” A few of the girlies nodded. 

Sigh. What can ya do?

That’s up for debate because I know what I would do: FORCE IT. 

And so, I did. 😁

This year, I have been trying my hardest to be more sunshine and less shitshow in my prose. I have tried everything – from consulting a prompt book, Googling ‘happy writing topics'’ and even writing paragraphs inspired by my gratitude list. (Ex. SUNLIGHT….hmm, I could write about how I love how the sun hits my skin in the morning…) LIKE…WHO THE FUCK CARES? It’s not hitting. It’s boring. It’s just not working. 

And you know why I’m failing? Because I am not happy. I am going through a dark ass night of the soul, and I’ve rearranged my life to bend to its will. So, that begs the question of how I can “make myself write happier” while in the throes of sadness. Where am I expecting to get this newfound attitude from – the fuckin’ sky? It’s preposterous. Happiness is learned; it’s a pattern that takes time and reinforcement. I cannot force light and freedom because my audience will tire of my whining. Maybe y'all will… but that is none of my business. I’m writing because I love it, not to entertain anyone. 

It’s finally dawned on me that since I'm depressed, my writing will be depressing. So, maybe instead of mandating bliss and forcing myself to deliver something I’m incapable of, I’ll take a break until I feel better and resume writing from that new vantage point.

I won’t give up on my goal: I still aspire for occasional fluff because I value dynamism in art. If you repeat the same shit, it becomes stale and irrelevant. But, currently, going against my emotional state is a fool’s errand. It’s not the time or place to challenge my writing style. This moment is a turning point for my health, lifestyle, and future, and I need to be in it. The dark cloud won’t last. If I give it time, I'll turn a corner. I will be happy one day and write happy things. I have a hunch that a smiley, yellow Teletubby sun is waiting for me sometime soon; it’ll be cute and so fun, and I can’t wait to tell you all about it.

— M

I want to thank my husband for proofreading this. He suggested I change the line from “I found myself on rewash” to “I found myself in a rerun.” ☺️ Thank you, baby!