I’ve become so good at working smarter, not harder, that I’ve forgotten what it really means to struggle for something. I’m strategic and crafty, always the one to measure twice and cut once. I love taking risks, but they’re always very calculated. If my plans fail, they don’t put me out too much because I find ways to accomplish what I want without putting too much on the line. I won’t invest in anything that doesn’t have the potential to yield a significant return in a quick way. I’m safe, semi-successful, and boring.

I’ve been playing guitar for 2/3 of my life. People say I’m really good but I think I just have a unique musical style. I’ve gotten to a point in my musicianship where I know my way around the fretboard decently well. It is enough to write some pretty unique songs and play most of the things I want to. Still there are songs that I wish I knew how to play that are just a bit outside of my reach and I am no longer willing to put in the practice required to master them. I’ve forgotten what it was like to just start out and have to struggle and sometimes literally bleed to learn a new song.

Same with my writing. People say I’m really good but I think I just have a relatable writing style. Writing for The Odyssey has given me a love for the written word like I’ve never had. I love being able to pour myself into a post and put it out there for others. What most people don’t know is that writing is actually super intimidating to me. I write often enough where people are now beginning to recognize me as a writer, but I don’t write that frequently at all. In fact, as I type this there is a tightness in my chest as I fight through my desire to close my laptop and lay down. Writing is so hard for me. In fact, when I do write it is because I have a burst of inspiration that allows me to get into the zone. I only write when it is easy and convenient.

But right now, I’m fighting through it. I don’t want to write this. I don’t want to write anything. It literally hurts; the pain in my chest is increasing by the minute. I want to give up. I need water.

I run a video game blog. People think it’s really good but I think it is grossly underperforming compared to how I imagined it would be after two years. That’s partly due to how I structure the business. Nobody I have ever brought on has had significant experience writing about video games before they write for me. I hire inexperienced people so that they learn and get better, but the drawback is that every few months I’m always starting from square one. That part I’m okay with because at the core my site is supposed to be a platform for helping others.

But if we’re taking an honest look at why I’m not seeing the growth that I want to, then I have to take full responsibility. I’m not putting in enough work into my passion project. I stick to doing the things I like and I excel at that, but I vehemently avoid the tasks I don’t like including writing. I’m really not good at writing about video games. In fact, every single person on my staff is better at it than me for the simple fact that they’re actually writing. I’ve always tried to lead by example and in this respect I am failing miserably. I started this project for the sole purpose of writing about video games and that is now the one task that I do the least. There are other things I can also be doing better for my site, but those things require hard work and time and commitment. I don’t think it’s the work that scares me, but rather the fear that my hard work won’t pay off. So I stick to what comes easy to me, what comes naturally.

By feigning competence and accomplishing the tasks that nobody else on my team has the skills to do, I can fool my staff into thinking that I’m a strong leader doing so many other things for the site that I’m just too busy to write. Yes, I am really busy handling the other operations of the site but more than that I’m just scared. I’m scared that I’ll put a lot of effort into my writing but the story will come out like garbage. So I wait for inspiration to hit, and when it does I can crank out something I’m proud of and wait for the praises to come. But a good writer doesn’t need inspiration to write. They can fight through the slog, the frustration, their insecurities, and produce something they're proud of in spite of it.

The fear of failure paralyzes me every single day. It keeps me from growing the website, shedding the weight, landing the job, getting the girl, and standing up for what’s right. I have my moments of victory and though they are infrequent, they are frequent enough where I can pat myself on the back and say well done, or worse, where people can look at me as some kind of positive example. But every day I am afraid and I make excuses and I take the easy way out. Every day I fail because every day I am afraid to fail.

This is not who I want to be, but many times I willingly take on the persona of a failure when I refuse to even give success a chance. However, as I wrap up this article, the pain in my chest has mostly faded. I struggled through it and it feels great to have made it to the end. Unfortunately, when I recount this little victory my mind will convince me that the pain of the struggle is so much greater than it actually was which usually causes me to avoid the next challenge I face.

I don’t think I can end this with some quip of wisdom. I clearly don’t have any helpful advice for you as someone trying desperately to fight against my own insecurities every day. If you have any insight for me, please don’t withhold it. I have tasted triumph. It is sweet and wholesome and good, yet it is not a meal I often let myself indulge. I’m trying to break the cycle of repeated missteps in my life and live to my potential. Finishing this post, I’m sure, is at least a good first step.