What I think about when I think about writing

Even when the writing is going better immediately I get self-conscious and start thinking 'the writing is going well' and then begin dreading when it won't go well which takes me out of it again. It's still a better place to be then when it isn't going well at all. That horrible horrible no man's land of a limbo where no ideas are worth writing about and stuck stooped in a chair generating nothing, feeling nothing but frustration and that every second is torture. It's hell. And this is your dream? This is your hobby? You LOVE doing this? And it seems like more a sickness than a pastime. And a weakness rather than a strength. At least do something with results that can benefit your life. To think you've sacrificed time, money and god knows what else so you can sit in a room writing uttter trash no one wants to read. It's hell alright.

The creative act is in direct conflict to my real world responsibilities and whenever I spend time on one, I feel like I should be focusing more on the other. Not to mention the choice of spending time writing is time spent not developing other appealing skills. Languages and instruments and sport. Often this feeling that what I'm doing is wrong is so overwhelming that I will regularly choose doing absolutely nothing of value instead, which makes no logical sense except that numbing my mind in nothingness is less unpleasant feeling.

This bizarre fantasy exists in my head where I will do nothing but write or think about a WIP. I love this idea of being consumed in a frenzy by a project. I've experienced this once or twice. But I can't seem to get there again. Reality is holding my creative self hostage. If you are consumed by passion, it does not matter how busy you are. You WANT to get up early to work on it. You do not want to watch movies and read other books. God, I miss that feeling. But even as I was spurred on by my creative self a sneaky self lay behind that one saying, 'you are a delusional fuck! You're wasting your time. This won't help you long term.' And I'm not convinced that voice was utterly wrong.

I wonder if I really have the psychological constitution for writing. Yes, I have the obsessiveness and the solitary nature. But am I not more mentally ill than anything else? Or at least neurotic. And the neuroticism seeps it's way into and destroys everything I attempt. Strangled by self-hatred instead of driven by inner strength - I am not a real writer. I'm just playing a part.