Burning out

Bright little star, why must you keep fading so?

A new year that brings more opportunity to keep writing. Or perhaps not. I’m back in my normal rhythms now but it feels… not quite right. I’ve been busy juggling seminar powerpoints, ridiculously long word-count assignments, making sure that I get enough shifts at work to get by. The footfall in the shop has died off after Christmas — it’s January and everybody is broke, me included. I can’t carry on scraping through each month, can I?

And in-between all of this I look forward to my quiet moments — where it’s just me, a cuppa, and a blank page in my notebook.

I have been writing long before I’ve had an audience who actively enjoy (and even look forward to reading) my work. Even if I wasn’t on here making new posts each week I’d still fill notebooks with scribbles and ramblings. But recently…?

I think my writing spark is fading out, big time. Maybe it’s the stress of having a never-ending to-do list, or maybe I’ve just run out of things to say.

It feels more like I’ve been forcing the words out of my skull rather than allowing them to flow freely from my mind. Writing is like turning on a tap — and quite often once the floodgates are open it won’t stop until there’s nothing left in my system. Other times the spout is rusted over, and all that comes out is a drip of something that looks rather off-putting. All I know is that no plumber can fix it. I have to wait until the tap reverts to its shiny fully-operational self again. The waiting is the hardest part.

I feel like a failure. I wallow in my own self-pity, convinced that others find my writing to be poor and of little value. I finally understand why Franz Kafka would get so frustrated with himself in his diary entries when he was unable to write. Everything feels blocked up and I get so tense.

Self-comparison is a bitch. There, I said it. We’ve all done it — envied other people’s subscriber counts, wondered why their posts gain more traction than ours, shed a tear because you don’t really feel included in their community. It hurts. But none of it is true. The numbers don’t matter. The work is the most important thing, not the amount of people who read it. Sure, it’s a nice feeling to rack up views and likes. It absolutely makes my day when someone leaves a nice comment on my work. It’s a dopamine rush. But I would much rather post my true, unapologetic thoughts than words that only serve to cultivate engagement.

Making connections always feels difficult and alien, at least to me, especially when you’re hiding behind a screen. Growth comes from interaction, from reaching out to the people who think are cool and inspire you. It is possible to build a community and you will be much better off for it. Showing support for other creatives, as all of us are stuck in the same boat of self-doubt and constant comparison, is something that we should strive for.

Plus reading other work helps bring out fresh ideas of your own — it can be fun to get into somebody else’s version of events for once. I’ve discovered so many brilliantly talented voices on here that I devour avidly with each new post that gets released. Always keep reading, it’s good for you.

A lot of the time I’m not worried about these things at all. I write for myself, whether it does well or not. But the feelings crop up now and then, often in tune with my creative tap drying up. Sometimes I can move past it, other times it floors me and I have to take a break from going online.

This was meant to be about burnout, except the words kept charging out and my fingers couldn’t keep up with them. I’m not the first writer to feel like this — and I won’t be the last. Knowing that I’m not alone with my struggle brings me comfort, but it also makes me sad.

We need to stop doubting ourselves so much. Let the words speak for themselves in 2026. Put your energy into growing a little community, even if it’s just you and another person hyping each other up.

And when the tap begins to rust over and the creativity dries up — take a break. Take a day off. The words will come back, they always do.

---

Author’s note: I hope you’ve all been having a brilliant start to the new year so far! I did aim to get this posted earlier in the week, but that work + uni assignment combo had me really creatively blocked up and unsure of what to write about.

Sometimes I wonder if I would’ve been better off to keep my words anonymous, to keep the pressure off of myself of everybody being able to put a face to the name. On the other hand, I’m proud of what I write and I stand by what I say — why shouldn’t I? Some people are just so miserable that they have nothing better to do other than bring others down. Anonymous or not, I can never be everybody’s cup of tea.

I hope that my spark comes back soon, and in the meantime I wish you all well.

Love,

Ellen x