The voice in my head

Having a zero confidence day.  They happen every few days really.  Wake up with this voice in my head telling me what I'm doing is a stupid waste of time and if I'd spent this much time on my school work I'd have an amazing career already.

I know whose voice it is.  It's Grandma and she thought at the time she was doing the right thing.  What she did was plant this device in my head that doesn't want me to do anything different, anything new, anything creative.  It's ok to knit and sew because that's what women have always done (slight distortion of history, Grandma) but writing is not acceptable.

I've always written, since I knew how to put words on paper.  It was only ever approved of if it was in some way related to education or could be taken to school to show to the teacher.  Personal efforts were sometimes waved in my face with "what's this rubbish?" sneered at me if I hadn't found a safe enough hiding place for them.  Heaven forbid I got so tired I left them on the table.

I know why she did it.  She didn't want me to struggle to make a living in later life and that's the traditional idea of a writer.  She wanted me to pursue the academic route and I think her plan was that I'd become a teacher.  She didn't take into account that I lacked one vital ingredient for teaching - a tolerance for kids en masse.  I could have applied myself more at school and in higher education.  I was only happy doing something creative or reading the books I wanted to read.  I still did pretty well but I know she thought I should have done better.

It's 14 years now since I left full time education and it's almost a year since Grandma passed away.  Still I hear her voice telling me I'm wasting my time and still it stifles my ability to write.  I can blog.  I can jot down my thoughts, but I can't make words into pictures or create worlds in my mind.  I could cry, I feel so defeated by it and it's just a voice in my head.  If she's watching, she knows I want to work and work hard, and to use my spare time to share what I create because someone might just enjoy it.  She never said it though, not even once I was working, earning, owning my own house, living a good life.  She never said it was ok to do what I always wanted to do if only in the spare time I had.  She always waved a dismissive hand and said hmph, or sometimes she went so far as to say mergh.  I can't shake it from my mind some days and it feels like she's here, making sure I don't waste time on words.  Maybe I need help.  Maybe I need a psychiatrist.  Or maybe I need to do what I've always wanted to do and prove to her that I can.  Will that stop the voice?