Kicking ‘Writers Block’ & other ramblings

It’s the worst feeling in the world when you lose inspiration.

You’ve been on a roll for a few weeks and then suddenly, nothing. All the ideas you thought you had vanish, or you lose interest because life gets in the way, as usual.

Sure you could post something about a lipstick you’ve been wearing for a while now, but your heart just isn’t in it.

You’ve seen plenty of posts about ‘what to post when you’re lacking inspiration’, but they’re largely on the same ‘look-how-much-I’ve-spent-on-makeup-this-month’ wavelength. The kind you know you COULD post for the sake of it, but what would be the point in posting content you aren’t proud of/wouldn’t want to read yourself?

Who would read it then, if even you wouldn’t bother?

I find it really difficult to be a blogger sometimes. I’ve been doing it on and off now for six years and each time I go back to it, I realise how much competition there is, how massive the community is and how unfair it can be, at times.

I feel like a drop in the ocean 24/7. I watch as certain hashtags update every five seconds or so with a plethora of new beauty and lifestyle posts, I wonder how anyone manages to be successful with so many people writing such similar content.

I mean, how many hundreds (maybe even thousands) of beauty bloggers have written about the Kyle Cosmetics Lip Kits?

I’ll admit, I’ve been planning on writing  my own review about them, but as I said before, I haven’t really felt like it just recently. I suppose you could say I’ve been having a slight existential crisis; having a blog is just another thing to feel self-conscious about.

Writing has always been important to me. Since I was a toddler I had always been fascinated watching my mum writing in her diary. Given half a chance I’d grab a crayon or a coloured pencil and decorate the pages with my own illegible scrawl, much to my mothers despair when she eventually found it later on.

Growing up I became even more fascinated with writing. While some kids would get excited over the latest Barbie or Hot Wheels merchandise, I’d be beside myself at the thought of a 100-sheet pad of lined paper from Woolworths (remember that?!).

So much possibility, but no clear way of communicating. I remember spending hours sat at my desk staring at that blank pad of paper feeling full of inspiration but absolutely no clue what to write.

A bit like now actually.

I don’t think people understand how difficult and time consuming blogging actually is. When I started out at 16 I imagined overnight success. I’d seen how well Zoella was doing and imagined I could do the same. (How many others have started blogging thinking the same eh? More than half of the community I suspect!)

My profound teenage writings would speak volumes to people and I’d be a well respected columnist and blogger at 16. Newspapers would pay thousands for my wise words and I’d be set for life. I’d go to University for the fun of it, for the experience, rather than out of necessity.

Obviously that didn’t happen.

Back then, I didn’t know the importance of interacting with readers and other bloggers, creating a brand, taking part in the many ‘blog chats’ and being consistent in creating good content.

I was just an arrogant, self-important teen.

While I’ve learned an awful lot over the past six years, about interaction, consistency and organisation, I’m still incredibly envious of other bloggers doing a lot better than I am, especially when they’ve spent a lot less time doing it.

Sometimes I can be a total bitch and question why certain ‘successful bloggers’ are just that, with content I’d frankly be embarrassed to publish on my own blog, I can’t help but wonder how they’ve managed to become so popular.

Not that I’m saying my content is perfect, far from it. I suppose it’s just the green eyed monster coming out to play. It’s my own fault I haven’t done as well as I’d initially hoped to anyway.

I was out with a Uni friend the other day, talking about how we never appreciated how much free time we had, even though we were supposed to be reading for degrees. The hours we spent watching crap daytime TV, or out in town spending our student loans was immense. I could have spent some of that time working on growing and improving my blog.

I wonder, had I spent my time a little more wisely, I could have been a bit happier with it than what I am now.

Hindsight is a fine thing I suppose.

Still, it is what it is. I still enjoy the bursts of inspiration I do have, and still enjoy blogging when I can, around work and DIY on Lily.

More recently I’ve used my blog as a kind of open, public therapy. Some people have praised my honesty, while others have questioned and criticised. You can’t please everyone, but when it comes to personal streams of consciousness, it isn’t about pleasing, it’s about improving oneself and ones mental health.

Like right now for example, I have no idea what the point of this post actually is. All I really know is I’m sat in the boathouse, with a notebook, a pen, a cup of tea and I’m looking out at the beautiful marina, nestled in lush green surroundings, hidden away from the busy city, and I’m happy, I’m comfortable and I feel like I belong.

Isn’t that what everyone wants in life?

I suspect my enthusiasm will come back soon enough; it’s amazing what the odd word vomit can do for the creative mind! In the mean time, I’ll keep sipping tea and writing in my little notebook.

Do you suffer from the dreaded ‘writers block’ from time to time? What do you do to get your creative flair back? Comment below and let me know!

Till next time,

love, Leigh


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