It’s no secret that I’ve gotten into podcasts lately. It started with some Penny Arcade stuff and then I moved into some other things. Recently I’ve fallen in love with Mur Lafferty. She’s a writer and hosts the podcast I Should be Writing. She also reminds me a lot of one of my best friends and beta-readers, Tacia (if you added fifteen years to Tacia you’d get Mur).
The other night I was listening to a short podcast entitled Update on Me in which Mur goes over the reason why she vanished for a few weeks in the middle of summer. She basically detailed that every time she had thought about podcasting or blogging that a little voice in her head had told her no. When she analyzed why she didn’t want to do these things she surmised that it was because depression was causing her to think no one cared what she had to say. Even she admitted that was stupid, she’s one of the most popular writing podcasts and she has a book coming out.
The thing is that in listening to her I realized that this is the same issue I have been having when it pertains to writing and blogging. I have actively avoided Keep Austin Safe in any way that I can, calling it “planning” and reasoning that it’s not a good enough idea yet and what I really need to do is more late stages changing of different things to make it better. I avoid this place despite the recent burst in popularity. I even avoided writing my character backstory for my 4th Edition D&D character for Wednesday night.
All of this because I figured no one cared what I was doing or had to say. Mur pretty much hit the nail on the head, because I let all of this sneak up on me. I’m so quick to recognize when my first impressions about interactions with people (thinking that a girl hates me for no reason, thinking that a friend isn’t responding to text because they don’t ever want to respond again) are tinted by depression. But I don’t usually look inward at what I am doing and how I am acting and how depression could be changing the things I do there.
Knowing the adversary really isn’t winning in this case because even then it’s a sneaky one. It gets up beside you, like the little Devil on your shoulder, whispering into your ear and feigned like it’s just part of your conscious. I really have to thank Mur for shedding some light on what was going on for me. This is a constant battle, but it’s one I don’t intend to lose.