Recently, I received an unwelcome visitor.  It felt like seeing someone you once knew, a past you would rather not see again – too much hurt; too many memories.  An uncomfortable feeling, but you just have to grin and bear it.  Such is the feeling of self doubt.

It is unnaturally patient, eagerly waiting for just the right moment to strike.  It lurks in the shadows; ever watchful, ever hopeful for that opportunity to arise.  The slightest slip-up and it whispers in your ear, slowly but surely convincing you that it knows better than you do.  It has won a small victory, for you take the bait and you are left alone to weather the storm.  Satisfied, it returns to the shadows waiting for another sign of weakness.

Once again, self doubt consumed me into an almost depressive state.  I couldn’t write; I spent my time as a couch potato or gazed out of the window as I considered a career change.  Yet, the only way of shutting off that inner critic is to continue writing.  I believe it is my only vocation; one that my little stranger will just have to get used to.

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