Writing has been transformative for me. Quite literally, having the goal to publish a book before I hit 30 has changed my life. It’s change the way I prioritize things, my relationships and the way I view myself. It’s shifted my goals and dreams for my life and sparked a flicker of hope when I most desperately needed it.
And for the last three months, I have been in monster mode. Without fail I have been on a strict schedule of daily 4:00am wake-ups, working til 6pm and then rushing home or to Starbucks to continue writing til 9 or 10pm. But because I was so singularly-focused, other things fell apart. My house got neglected, other goals I had were pushed aside and my husband threatened to get a mistress (though to be fair, he has been asking for one for years, so I don’t know if this one technically counts).
So I have been trying to strive for more balance and with that, means less time dedicated to my writing and the writing process. It sucks. I throw myself pity parties. How can I become a billionaire by thirty-five if I can’t focus on my writing? (Note: working in therapy on dreams vs. delusions. #WorkinProgress)