I worry sometimes whether I’m deluding myself. These are often my darkest moments, when the muse has gone quiet and I’m sitting with a notebook or an app of some sort in front of me, and the thought presents itself: “I’m not actually any good at any of this”.

At these points I start to doubt my abilities, and begin to believe – and I’m having to tell myself now that this belief is in spite of evidence to the contrary – that I am simply not cut out for anything other than what I am right now.
“What I am right now…” sometimes I wonder what that even means, and what I even want it to mean.
Is it governed by what I get paid to do? If so, then I’m a Customer Service Nobody.
Is it governed by what I trained to do at uni? If so, then I’m an animator, or a computer programmer, or a computer game designer, or a 3d modeller, or something like that.
Is it governed by what I’m doing right now? If so, then I’m a sicknote slacker, on the sick because I can’t pull myself together.
Is it governed by what I want to do at the moment? If so, then I’m a writer.
Am I all of these? Or one? Or none? I don’t know a lot of the time, but maybe that’s not too much of a problem. Maybe it’s okay that I don’t know. Maybe I don’t have to choose.

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