Why am I sending an email every day?

Because I don’t fucking want to do it. That’s why.

I have to practice doing the most important work when it’s the last thing I want to fucking do.

Think, write, publish. 

I’m doing it when I’m sad. I’m doing it when I want to disappear. When my heart is broken. I’m doing it when I’m collapsing. I’m doing it when I’m scared and overwhelmed and uncertain.

I’m doing it when I don’t know what I want to say —  when I don’t know what I feel.

I’m doing it when I want to quit. I’m doing it when I just want to tell everyone to go fuck themselves.

I’m doing it when I know I can’t do it.

Thanks to the person who pulled me out of my hole last night.

I had less than two hours before I broke my commitment. When she called me, I already committed to breaking it. I was done.

But she didn’t let me off the hook.

She said

“Ryan, you’re collapsing. This is what you do. I know you don’t think you can do it, but I know that you can.”

I know it wasn’t easy for her. When I’m that place, I can be a real motherfucker. But she did it anyway and I needed it.

(it was that word — “collapsing” — that did it for me. I don’t feel things in my body very much, but I sure as fuck felt that. It was like electricity.)

I can’t even tell you how much better I felt after I sent the damn voice note. It was the first time I did more than one take. I played around with cadence and timing and delivery. I tried to model Anthony Jeselnik — and I kinda fucking nailed it.

I’ll be back soon with some shit to help you build whatever the fuck you’re building.

For now, I’m just sending this fucking email about my fucking feelings.

Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead, all that shit.