I love writing. It comes as naturally to me as walking, or at least it did until it didn’t. Something changed, something, I never really expected to happen to me, because like so many others, I thought I was fine, I thought I was the strong one in the family/friend group. This sort of thing doesn’t happen to people like me, right?

I’ve wanted to be a writer since I found out that it was okay to want to be a writer. In college, I accidentally enrolled in a screenwriting class. I was hooked. By this time, I thought I’d be a journalist who writes prose on the side but screenwriting? That was it.

I pursued journalism as the sensible major when I transferred to a university for undergrad, but kept cinema as a minor. I worked with amazing faculty and developed my first full-length feature. It’s my baby. I still consider it one of my best works. Since then I’ve produced a healthy portfolio of features and original shows. The ideas came quickly, and while part of it was because they were part of my grad school work, there was plenty written purely out of love and passion.

That all came to a screeching halt last summer when it felt like I was drowning in a never-ending pit. The pit lasted all through the fall and even through the winter, only recently has it even begun to feel like I’m nearly out.

Mental illness, in general, runs in my family, but it’s not something we talked about growing up. Still, I didn’t think it was going to hit me as hard as it did. Then again, I didn’t give the last two years enough credit. They were hard, really fucking hard. From deaths, breakups, financial insecurity, job loss, mixed in with my anxiety, and OCD, if it wasn’t one thing, it was another. That "another" became depression.

According to the National Institute of Mental Health, almost 1 in 5 adults have a mental illness; I’m sure there are those reading who identify with the lack of motivation, frustration, and sadness that comes with depression. The feeling of not wanting to get out of bed, or even the weird swells of anger that occur out of nowhere.

For me as a writer, one of the worst parts of it all was not being able to write. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, it wasn’t that I didn’t have the means or ideas, it was the fact that I’d sit down to write and before I began I’d ask myself, what’s the use? It felt like there was no point. I'd stare at the screen, and watch the cursor blinking. I hated the cursor.

It went beyond standard writer’s block, and it was even harder with people waiting and wanting to read my stuff. “What's the use?” rang out in my head over and over again.

Like anxiety, depression's a liar. It turns us into someone we're not; it can make us feel less than what we are. Emotions heighten, especially the ones many of us like to avoid. Depression likes to knock us down and does everything it can to keep us there. I wanted me back; I wanted to write. I missed it.

Therapy was the first step, and with it, I developed personalized exercises to help me write again.

They say if you want to be a writer, write every day. That was far too daunting at the time, so I aimed low at first. I kept a journal. I found that writing things down on paper and getting away from the blinking cursor helped a lot.

Slowly, I produced more and more. What I wrote wasn't even a script, it was just junk, but it was good junk. I was lucky, I had friends who were writers rooting for me, I had mentors who believed in me, but most importantly, I started to believe in myself, and my writing, again. That junk helped me realize that I do have something to say, we all do.

I'm here to tell anyone, writer or not; this block won't last forever. Baby steps are still steps, and it's okay to ask for help. Most importantly, be kind to yourself. If I hadn't changed the way I talked to myself, I'd probably still be asking, “What's the use?” I’m not saying it won’t be hard, or that I’m even 100% in the clear, but things can change for the better.

Find a process that works for you; it doesn't have to be writing at first. Go for a walk, make a dream playlist for one of your ideas, and listen to it on repeat. Seek help, don't be afraid or ashamed. No one should have to deal with this alone. It's okay not to be okay; it's okay not to be the strong one. And just think, one day this will be great material.

For more information, and mental health resources visit nami.org.

About the Author

Deanna Gomez is a Lecturer at California State University Fullerton and Editor in Chief of the WODC blog.