Musings · Real Remarks

Identity Crisis or Overthinking Too Much?

Most people have heard of the infamous Mid-life Crisis, but what of the lesser known Identity Crisis?

According to Dictionary.com an Identity Crisis is:

(noun) a period or episode of psychological distress, often occurring in adolescence but sometimes in adulthood, when a person seeks a clearer sense of self and an acceptable role in society.

For a long time I’ve never known quite what it was I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Like most kids and adolescents I liked to pretend I had it all figured out. Become a writer. Or an astronaut. A firefighter. Sounds familiar, right? Some children even plan out their weddings without even meeting their future spouse.

Due to a concussion I suffered when I was just ten years old, I don’t recall much of aspirations as a child or how I felt about anything. One thing has always been clear to me:

I want to create and share stories.

My mother told me that when I was around that age I read a lot – it was difficult to find me without my nose in a book. My current dream at the time was to become a writer. It sounded simple, and easy. I bet most writers thought that when they were young as well.

Somehow, I can even recall the various times I attempted to write books. If I wasn’t reading or drawing silly stick-figures telling stories, I was writing about something. Of course I never actually finished anything, but I always reach very far within the story themselves. Along the way, my drawings became better and more recognizable as things other than stick-figures. It was a simple hobby to me, nothing more.

There came a time when I would create new stories monthly. And each time I would make requests to my friends for them to create characters for me. I adored having us all get together for a common interest and have the ability to share this… world I create. None of them lasted long at all. In fact, I’m pretty sure they all got annoyed about it after awhile. At one point, I was obsessed with making the stories video game in my head, and even asked about combat poses for everything.

One large collaborative story had its information collected in a composition notebook. Each friend’s character had a level, abilities, and other things. It was for a book series, not a video game. I guess I remember this because it was on-going project. The biggest collaboration came from me simply asking which characters on a video game my friend’s wanted to be a named after, then a story spun out of that and was very much alive until 6 years ago, when it died – in my eyes anyway.

Now, I am 27, nearing 28, unable to work because of my disabilities and re-thinking everything I committed to do as a child. When I think about writing,I don’t feel excited about it. Yet, when I don’t write about anything, I feel empty.

I struggle with want I want to do with my life now. My art has become much better over the years and now I can make games, so perhaps I’m just eager to use my love of stories and refined skills all at once. I know that I hate just sitting here, but no matter how hard I try to write a novel, it never gets done. Maybe novel-writing is not for me? Perhaps I need to just do graphic novels or create indie games instead.

Perhaps I’ll use NaNoWriMo as the last time I’ll decide if being a writer was what I always wanted to be.

Thanks for reading!

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