Hardit Singh's Blog

I had grand plans for my current and future writing projects. I visualised novels, screenplays and another collection of poetry, thinking it was just a matter of time before these would come to completion. Unfortunately my mental health reminded me that things are always subject to change, that no real plan can really be made. ​

As it stands at the present moment, I’m no longer able to work on the novels that I had wanted to get published or self-publish and the future ideas that are always calling to me. I’ve written four novels thus far and have been circulating my work with agents, but all of that seems to be a closed door right now. 

My works of poetry have also suffered because of my mental health - the pressure I’d put myself under and being unable to compare myself to others, which came with it’s own stresses. The reason I started writing poetry was to have an outlet for my mental health and ironically it’s now having a direct impact on me in that area. 

Everything in regards to my writing seems to be up in the air. I’m not sure what’s next. I am going to publish a zine hopefully in the coming weeks, which I had worked on a while back, that will be available from my etsy store. I still write poetry here or there, but it’s about taking it day by day and if these writings inspire another collection or more zines great, if not, I have to be OK with that too.

This phase of my life seems to be a lesson on letting go of expectations and in some ways it’s helping me to be more in present awareness and less in my head all the time. It looks as if this blog is shaping into being a kind of journal, so perhaps I can try and continue posting on here when I’m able to for those who are reading. 

Right now I’m thinking of making a post on writing advice. Of course there’s plenty of advice available out there, but I thought it might be nice to share my take on a few things I’ve come across and learned along my creative journey. 

until next time…

hardit.

This week I launched my Patreon page. To some this may not be a big deal and quite a straight-forward thing to do, for me this was terrifying and still is. One thing I’ve always struggled with as a writer and spoken-word artist is putting myself out there. I’m uncomfortable with attention. I’ll need to go into this further to fully explain the extent of which I am. ​

When I write a Facebook status, tweet, promote myself on Instagram, I’m plagued with anxiety. My mind flows with negative questions and comments that brings up feelings of rejection and failure - its speciality skill is comparing myself to others. 

During this time I do my best to withstand these negative effects, though there comes a time — usually days — when my emotions crash and it all becomes too much for me. While promoting myself this past week and making an effort to be more personal on social media, I endured a lot of stress. My mind has been racing almost non stop, as if I’ve had too much caffeine. I’ve been holding out for as long as possible while pushing myself to do things out of my comfort zone and now has come the crash. 

I’m so aware how important it is having a constant stream of promotion and interaction with your audience on social media. I’m surrounded by other creators who are doing just this and it’s a constant painful reminder that I’m just not able to, which perpetuates the feelings of failure and comparisons with others.

In the last hour or so before writing this, I’ve been working on my Patreon page ‘About me’ section. I wasn’t satisfied that I got myself across clearly enough and it has seemed to calm me a little by just focusing on something. I’ve tried not to think about posting this for everyone to see, but just write what’s on my mind and what I feel I need to write. 

I don’t know where I’m going to go from here. I’ll probably engage in this battle many times and try and try again because this has been the pattern for a while. Perhaps now is the time to just put my energy into being creative - the reason why I decided to write a new blog post (as I watch the French Open tennis and breathe in the lavender steam from my oil diffuser).

It took me years to accept that I wasn't well enough to work due to depression and anxiety. Part of me still hasn’t. I know deep down that I'm more unwell than I want to admit, to even myself.

After a couple years out of work, I got over my shame, embarrassment and pride and applied for Employment Support Allowance benefits. Within months I was booked in for a face to face assessment. At the time I was studying to become a Teacher Assistant. I freaked out when I got this letter, detailing my impending appointment, and figured that I had enough financial support to help me until I completed the course and find a job. 

It wasn't long before I realised I didn't have the mental strength to read all of the teaching course materials and write the essays. Accepting I couldn’t help support myself, I went through the benefits application again and this time I went to the assessment. 

I was asked a lot of questions. About the ability to bathe, communicating, to plan and complete a journey - these were just some of them. I was nervous. I felt defensive. Sitting there in that office I was unable to access my pain and lack of ability to take care of myself. 

One question that was asked: 'Can you read a set of instructions for a washing machine?' I answered a cool, calm and collected 'yes, I can.' In that moment if she gave me a set of instructions I would read them, out of fear and nervousnesses. But this assessment wasn’t about what I was able to do under stress of a watchful eye, this was about how I was on my worst days in my own environment. 

I tried my best to communicate the challenges my mental health posed, but I ended up instead putting on a brave face. I didn't give myself a chance by not communicating my struggles clearly enough and this resulted in scoring the lowest possible score on their assessment rating system, meaning I wouldn’t get any financial help to support my daily living. 

I took it hard and used my disappointment and anger to try and continue my Teacher Assistant course. I even paid for an extension on my essays, hoping I could just use my pain to push me through, yet nothing had changed. I struggled with concentration and the  stamina it took in applying myself, and eventually I couldn't go on with my studies. 

I'm not sure how many months passed when I reached a stage that I felt strong enough to try and apply for a job. I went to several interviews - each was incredibly stressful, more so than the usual stress an interview can bring. Soon I started my first day at a retail store - it turned out to be my only day there. My head couldn't take the pressure, the learning, the hectic environment - I don't have the words to fully describe my feelings. I did know that I couldn't cope. With the amount of learning required I already knew I didn’t have the capability in that time to go through with it. I made the decision to leave, instead of trying to hang on.

Calling this a setback would be putting it mildly. I was a mess, not knowing if I would ever be well enough to work again. I had thoughts of how will I be able to take care of myself amongst others.  

I eventually got the courage to try and get help again. Due to cuts in mental health the only benefit I could apply for was Personal Independent Payment - a disability benefit. I went through the long process of applying, including spending over two hours filling out a form describing in detail why the simplest of tasks can be too overwhelming for me. 

Two months later I was told I had to attend an assessment. This time I felt more prepared - I understood that I had to speak up for myself and answer the questions based on my most challenging days. I thought the assessment went OK, in that I managed to convey my difficulties clearly. I felt I could've said more, I guess I would always feel this way. 

I was hopeful during the long wait, where they would assess my answers and decide whether to give me financial support. Once again I scored no points for their model of how my disabilities affect me. Not only that, but I received feedback from somebody who I had never met, who sits behind a computer screen telling me that they disagreed with my answers and my capabilities of daily living. To me this just shows how fraught the mental health services is. I’ve also read many accounts where people who are severely unwell are not getting the help they need.

I was devastated reading this feedback. How can somebody, who wasn't even at the assessment, just decide I'm OK to do certain day to day tasks and negate everything I've been trying to say? It feels this system is designed to only help those who fit a certain mould of disability. Maybe this is down to cuts in mental health and the lack of understanding that mental health challenges pose.

I had a chance to appeal, but by the time I felt able to, the deadline had passed. I still haven’t decided whether I’m going to get help with trying to submit a late appeal / reapply.

It's been challenging writing this, because I feel so worn down from this experience. My feelings from this are still raw and it frustrates me that I can't be clearer in putting across how difficult a time this was and how it still affects me. I thought by writing this it would be a healthy outlet to deal with my emotions (and dust off my blog). 

If you would like to support me and my writing you can find my Patreon page here  

Thanks for reading.

Just over a year ago I began writing poetry. It was an outlet for my emotions as I dealt with depression and anxiety. As the poetry continued to flow an idea came to me to perhaps do something more than post it on social media. Prior to this I had only written and published fiction so I decided  to publish my poetry in a collection. I had come across a poet by the name of Rupi Kaur and her work gave me encouragement to persevere towards a book. 

The poetry in Fading Footsteps gives a small window into my childhood and some of my early challenges as a teenager to my current state of mind as I work to get myself well again. I have also included poetry about spirituality, fiction and random musings in a chapter called 'A Box of Chocolates.' 

My main reason for putting out this collection is to help others going through challenges with their mental health. I say to myself as an author if i've helped just one person through a bad day, given someone inspiration, made them laugh then my job as a writer is done. 

​If my book does find its way into your hands, I hope we form a connection and for that short time my words can give you what you need.

Fading Footsteps will be available for purchase on Tuesday July 19th through Amazon, iBooks, Barnes & Noble and Smashwords.

Her eyes open prepared for sunlight
Still a black cloak remains
No position is comfortable on this bed
The body aches as though this mattress is a slab of led


The alarm tricks her and remains silent
A bolt of fear strikes her eyes staring at the lateness
A hundred things to do
Now is the time chaos will ensue


All the cars on the road are working against her
Cyclists laugh
Pedestrians shake their head
Her stomach rumbles pleading to be fed.


She forgets the directions told to her
Round and round she goes
She wishes she could start the day again
She closes her eyes for a moment of zen


Destination reached
It has just gone nine
A sigh of relief as she parks
Her interview is due to start at quarter past


The waiting room is a chamber of torture
The ticking clock counting down her demolition
A man then steps outside with a glint of sorrow
He tells her she has come on the wrong day, her interview is in fact tomorrow

​ -hs

I cannot remember the moment I decided to write my first poem just as I don't recall my first lines of fiction. I do know that both of these art forms came out of pain and a desperation to express it.

In a short time this venture into poetry has been a profound journey. Scared of what I was writing I created anonymous social media accounts. I had the courage to post on my named account sparingly but continually returned to the safety of anonminity.

As an author it made sense to publish my poetry under my name to build on my previous works, however, the anxiety was overwhelming. Many days throughout the week I would partake in letting my fears get the best of me and allow my weaknesses to dictate.

On those rare days of calm I had the strength to persuade myself that I had something to say, to share with others, that all these years of suffering with depression could be put to good use. I decided I would put these poems, which had gradually piled up, into a collection that I could publish.

I still go back and forth, being determined to put out this collection one moment to walking away from writing altogether the next. Only time will tell what will come to fruition. I have no expectations and have detached myself from outcome. As of now writing poetry is supporting me through my time of need, and of course I will continue to write fiction for as long as I am able.

I seek out lessons from others. Often I observe and take note of people’s drive especially those individuals who are the best in their field whether it be writers, actors, athletes, or even a magician.

Sometimes, though, it’s so easy to fall in to the trap of just becoming inspired without taking action. I found myself in this spot and I kind of still am, where I feel moved after hearing David Blaine say how many hours each day he practises his magic or the intensity that Floyd Mayweather trains with and then do nothing with that drive.

It got to the point when it was painful to hear or read what was once inspirational and moving as it gave me a stark reminder of my shortcomings. The remedy was simple – take action – but knowing and doing are very different especially when not in the most useful mindset.

So it may be a good idea to be aware when a useful exercise like gaining inspiration turns into procrastination. We all need it at times, but in careful doses, it can spur you on to get the best out of you.

Some of the well-known public figures that inspire me are Anthony Robbins, Wayne Dyer, Floyd Mayweather, and David Blaine. What I’m inspired by the most is an individual’s dedication and worth ethic.

What or who inspires you? 

I recently thought about when I first started writing and found it hard to believe that it had been ten years. I started looking at time differently and I became more aware how fast it was ticking by. This time last year now seemed so close after recalling where I was in my life; it was scary to feel that so much more could’ve been accomplished.

Soon I had an array of references of how much time I had wasted and moments where I had begun something new and how much progress would’ve been made had I kept it up. I felt down and deflated and it was hard to shake it and still is. Even though I know the past is the past and it cannot be changed it’s hard to not bring it up and dwell on it when there’s the slightest bump in the road.

I recently came across a way of thinking when it came to time that is also an old adage: ‘take one day at a time.’ It’s so simple but it can be hard to apply at times and guide your mind away from worries about the future and concerns that don’t even exist. I tried applying this to my writing and thought about focusing on book at a time, a paragraph at a time or even a sentence if need be and living in the flow of now.

This reminded me of a philosophy that’s referenced a lot in Sikhi, which talks about breath. That our life is just this one breath, and nothing exists but that. I found it quite empowering as it allowed me to let go of all the times I had failed or let myself down, and especially those times that I felt I wasted, which hindered my current actions.

I’ve always believed that there’s a lesson in everything. In this case I realised how short time is and how each day needs to be a building block towards what you want to achieve. That to achieve something great happens by thinking small (something I heard Dr Wayne Dyer once say) and putting the majority of your focus on the present. Dr Wayne Dyer also gave an example of this and talked about tennis players and how they put very little of their focus on winning a Grandslam but instead take one point at a time. That is what he meant by thinking small and I will certainly take on this approach for my writing.

A quick update…

The decision to commit myself to self-publishing was a recent one. I had been torn on whether to go the traditional path or Indie for a long time and had originally decided to find an agent whilst still uploading my novels and short stories I had completed to Kindle. The feedback I received from agents was encouraging but it was hard to get a breakthrough. During this time I had also received positive reviews for my work, which was the last thing I expected.

I then went through a period of juggling a full-time job and preparing myself to go back into studying part-time. I wrote in short bursts that were few and far between, always thinking that I wanted to write but never prioritising it.

The opportunity and desire to put writing first was unexpected and I welcomed a hunger and focus to commit myself to really being a writer. Whilst I was on the traditional path I had completed two crime novels and several short stories. And at the end of last year, I really wanted to work on something new but realised my previous books needed improvement, if I wanted to make this into my job and give readers my best work.

As we speak I’m currently editing a previous crime novel called Driver and have already sent Traffic off to my editor for revisions. I also have a finished Manuscript called Safe Haven that is more of a family drama rather than straight crime that I’ll go through before shipping that off for revisions also. My hope is that I will have re-released new editions of both crime novels and the release of Safe Haven before the end of 2014.

There are already ideas circling my head for new works. I’ll most likely begin writing a series based on a short story I wrote a while back called Fast Lane. These books will be police procedural. However, I will always keep a status update on my upcoming releases on the home page of my website.

I have many short stories that I have written and which are saved on my computer. Hopefully someday each one of them will be able to reach my readers. Below is a piece of flash fiction I wrote a while back, where it depicts the hardship of making a decision that will effect the rest of your life. I'm sure we have all been there before...

8:50pm

What do I say and how can I break it to her? Do I want this? What do I want?

      I work fourteen-hour days and avoid my thoughts. How can I be a skilled surgeon, a profession of preciseness, when I’m so indecisive with this?

      I’ve got no family and all I have is her… and my job; the career I’ve built, with no help, no favours, just work ethic.

      Can I still have that, with a marriage and a family? Am I enough for her and is she enough for me?

      “If you want me to stay, you’ve got until 9pm,” she said after our fight about my commitment issues.

      She would never complain or get heated, there was no passion within her. Ambition wasn’t important and she wasn’t a go-getter. She was lacking something? NO! Grace, elegance, balance, allowing room for faith in her life and not letting life take over her – that was her essence. 

      I open my eyes in the toilets of the surgical ward. I stare at myself in the mirror, smile, lost in the moment, but only for a second. I check my wristwatch: I have eight minutes before my life changes.

      I sprint to her hotel up the street.

      I see her outside waiting for a taxi and immediately I grab her luggage.

            “I am a fool. Please forgive me and just know that you are my future. They say that behind every great man is a great woman, well you’re in front of me, I want to follow you.”