How I regained the ability to be a writer with this simple trick

In the cleanest way I can put it: I had to forget myself. I used much cruder terms at the time—and if you're an adult, I'm sure you can imagine exactly what I mean.

But it wasn't as harsh as it sounds. Telling myself to "forget myself" was really about telling the depression—the anxiety, the distractions, the voice whispering you're not good enough to call yourself a writer—that they no longer get to rent space in my head.

This isn’t a “pull yourself up by the bootstraps” story. It’s the opposite: it’s about putting your pride aside.

I got help. I saw a therapist. I started medication. I leaned on my family and the people who love me. If you’re struggling with writer’s block, do that. Get out of your own head.

I did—and here are a few of my tips, along with some of my story:

Step 1: Make Extra Money

This was a huge part of my journey. It’s not just about earning more—it’s about having a little extra at the end of the day to invest in yourself. You’ll come across opportunities that require $20, $30, or $40: contest entry fees, writing workshops, things that can move you forward. Make it easy on yourself (and on your credit score) by having that cash ready.

Get your finances under control. Pick up extra work if you can. Or just get really good at saving.

Step 2: Start Somewhere. Anywhere.

I started by founding a business. JustMyTypewriter Poetry began as a way to merge my love for literature and vintage machines. I wanted to pull my friends into poetry, too. That’s why I—of all things—brought poetry to pop-up markets. It was a way to make poetry more visible in Central Illinois.

Step 3: Meet People. Be Excited About It.

Remember how I said you’ll want extra money? This is why. Use it to buy a coffee or a meal for someone who inspires you. Be curious. Be friendly. Be open to conversations. Build your community.

Step 4+: Don’t Give Up. Remember That Losers Make History.

Stay with me on this. There’s no guarantee of success in writing—but the act of writing itself is a success. It’s hard. It demands something from you. And just doing it can give your soul the relief it’s craving.

You don’t have to be published tomorrow. You don’t have to be anyone’s favorite author. Just write. Contribute. Don’t give up—and don’t lose hope if it feels like no one’s noticing.

Keep going. Even if it doesn’t pay off in your lifetime, it matters. (Think: Van Gogh.)