Writing Turned Me Crippled

My fingers write, leaning on crutches

3 min readFeb 10, 2025

What do you do when you forget how to write?

When it seems your mind has fallen seven flights of stairs and has thus no means of standing back up. What do you do?

While you think, I’ll go first. I began eating rocks.

With my mind shattered on the ground and seemingly my whole body with it, I did what I’d heard many great and small writers before me taught me to do in such a gutwrenching scenario. I wrote.

I stared at the blank screen till its dull beam dried my eyes; the cursor blinking more than I did.

I typed, backspaced, backspaced, typed again, and shut my laptop. On and on I went.

I prayed. Feeling a little stupid thinking about bringing such a trivial matter to my God. But I did it anyway, overdosing on 1 Peter 5:7 like one who’d long suffered pain in the absence of painkillers.

I chewed on rocks, longing for the day I’d be satiated. I chewed, and chewed, all the while bleeding from the damage each wonky sentence, misplaced adverb and page-ripping paragraph caused.

The idea of giving up was comfortably crouched behind the screen of my laptop.

The idea that maybe this path wasn’t mine to tread on at all. That I’d best leave it for its rightful owner.

The idea loomed like patches of light down a dark alley.

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Each failed attempt to glue my thoughts onto pages confirmed it.

But succumbing to every writer's familiar yet unrequited friend, imposter syndrome, would be too bland, too sad, of a fin on my story.

Of course, my sentences could be bound more neatly, my adverbs guided and placed more carefully, and my paragraphs more sweet than nectar. But I’d never get to see that happen if I threw it all away.

If every draft remained hidden in the shadows of self-doubt and perfectionism.

I’d never get to see the result of perseverance in faith. Rather, I’d forever live crippled and accompanied by regret. Having thrown away my crutches and burned the uncharted path toward literary greatness.

So what do you do, dear fellow writer, when you forget how to write?

I’ll go first: I lean on my crutches, and I write.

Thank you SO MUCH if you read till the end! Your comments, claps, and thoughts mean a lot to me, so do share them if this piece evoked any.

xoxo, Chess