Delusional or Grandeural?

by The Writer

Hope vs. Faith Redux

BOOM! The 10 ton block slams into the ground inches away from me.  Fear surges through my body, but it’s mostly frustration. It’s not my first time almost being hit by writer’s block. Dramatic? Yes.  I attribute it to my delusions of grandeur.  Thinking on that, I decided to hop on over to AllPsych Online to check the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fourth Edition (DSM-IV) for where me and my mental state ‘fits in’.  We’re all in there.  I take some of the free online tests to see exactly what type of disorder my delusions spring from and shop the selection of disorders for something that piques my interest.  Writers fit in a vast array of categories, so I jump in…

Like most personality disorders, there are many factors that have contributed to the development of my symptoms; my flare for grandiosity, and being a middle child in the instant gratification era only add to my ‘artist’ label I use to exaggerate my achievements.  Overwhelmed by dreams of success, power, love, I sometimes feel more understood by other writers and artists, but that’s just my pride connecting with shared egos that results to a sense of entitlement and superiority.  However becoming aware of them helps to keep them in their place because at times I’m just overcompensating for my underlying sense of inferiority; with so many great writer’s I’m always questioning ‘is the work good enough’?

Becoming aware of my damned neuroses is one thing, but seeking treatment… RIDICULOUS!  It’s society’s fault! Right? I mean, I didn’t ask to be here! Just kidding.  Treatment comes in many ways, and ironically writing/journalising/blogging is one form. It seems very ironic that writing could be my ‘cure’, part of God’s sense of humour I’m sure.  The DSM-IV states my prognosis is ‘limited based mainly on my ability to recognize my own underlying inferiority and decreased sense of self-worth’…. Hmmm. Odd that I recognized my importance and self-worth, only after I realized how insignificant and worthless I became.  Though my delusions kept me from seeing truth, they did bring about hope and faith.

Experience has taught me getting up is harder than falling down, but hope gave me the strength to get back up.  Experience has taught me things aren’t always what they seem to be, but hope allowed me to see the good in things. Experience has taught me you get out what you put in, but hope pushed me to put in everything I have.

Writing is hard.  Good writing brings about admiration, inspiration, love or even hate; it sets emotions on fire. Understanding the human condition and connecting with it through black text and white pages seems like an insane idea. But it seems the more truthful I am with myself, the more truthful I am with my characters, and the better the piece becomes.  Honesty is hard, because it can be ugly sometimes.  And the truth is my writer’s block came not from my delusions of grandeur, but from my ingratitude.  Once again I got caught up in the shared artisan ego and sense of entitlement.  Experience has taught me that you do not always find what you’re looking for. However, hope is the tool I use not only to search, but to lift that 10 ton block.