i’m posting this here rather than under the work at home goal because i’m slowly coming to the conclusion that it’s fear that’s paralysing me. laziness, too, of course. but there’s a good part fear in there. fear of failure, fear of What Comes Next, and (now i’ve dropped so far behind schedule and have such a terrible, heavy, worthless feeling about the whole thing) fear of the job itself.

i used to be completely reliable, was Ms Reliable Translator, would always hand in my jobs on time (usually just in time, but that was laudable, even unexpected, in the academic world). worked hard, too hard, both as a freelancer and at my part-time job. was always battling with some deadline or other, then spending days recovering. so when i got offered The Book, i was pleased that i’d be in charge of my own schedule – would have a whole edited book to call my own (and it really is a biggie) instead of waiting for clients to deliver and then throwing myself at their texts to meet what were often ridiculous deadlines.

but it’s turned out that i am incapable of working to my own deadlines, incapable of organising my own schedules. basically, i was supposed to finish translating The Book in may. and even that was later than planned because i was initially incapable of drawing up a timeline for the contract (and didn’t do so until literally forced into it by personnel changes at the publishing house). i still have several chapters to go (all started, none finished). i have spent the whole day today with a chapter open on my laptop, hoping that it will magically finish itself, and doing anything rather than actually reading through that first sentence. i know that starting is the hardest part. i know that once i get into a chapter and start feeling i’m on my way that work gets so much easier. i know that i should just try to work for 10 minutes or an hour and see what happens. but it’s as if there’s a weight on my chest, a vital gap in my brain. i grasp at any excuse for not working – visitors coming and i don’t know exactly when. well, clearly, that means i can’t work at all. an emergency translation coming from the boss on wednesday. well, that mucks up my 4-day Work on The Book plan. clearly not worth working today either. i have a scary picture of the main author in my head. it’s like she’s watching over me in despair and exasperation. and i have bad feelings about most of the contributing authors who, in all honesty, seem to be a very strange bunch. few have bothered giving me feedback (ok, maybe they just haven’t got round to it because they too are pathological procrastinators – or maybe they’re just very busy), and a couple had nothing nice to say even though they only changed a few words in 60+ pages (which, irrationally, makes me feel unhappy about my translation). in sum, i suppose there has been a severe lack of positive feedback, and i guess i’m very dependent on that.

since The Book started getting out of control, other things have begun to slide. there are other freelance jobs i’ve started and never finished. this has financial implications as well, of course. my heart sinks every time i rediscover in my inbox a job i started (and got at least 75% done) in january, but for some reason never finished completely (the reason was, in fact, that i felt the text was, in itself, rubbish. but i was only hired to edit it, for goodness sake, not to rewrite it or have it win a blimming pulitzer prize). in the meantime, the person directly responsible for the project has left and the person ultimately in charge is literally dying. there’s another job i did and finished early in the year. but i failed to do another piece of work for the same organisation (not something i ever wanted to do, but i couldn’t say no…). i still haven’t written the invoice for the work i have done. i am embarrassed to write an invoice for something in the region of three thousand euros, for goodness sake. and as time goes on it gets more and more embarrassing. i don’t even know if the people i worked for last year are still with the organisation.

now this feeling of uselessness and paralysis seems to have generalised to my part-time job, where i have been less than productive over the past few months. same pattern again: start lots of things at once, can’t bring myself to finish anything unless it’s really short or the deadline is desperate, keep distracting myself, feel permanently useless and frustrated. in fact, that pattern seems to have generalized to life in general.

things have to change. i’m hoping that writing this all down here is the first step to facing my fears and getting the bloody thing done.