My entry

Webster’s dictionary defines writer’s cramp as mere physical pain! Ha, I laugh at this with a chuckle and a look down my nose as if to say ‘I, for one, know that there’s a lot more to this phenomenon than is written here.’ In fact, this definition is not courageous enough to reveal the psychological agony that writer’s cramp can inflict on a person; it is akin to comparing the benevolent ripples of a pond to tyrannical twenty-foot roaring waves amidst a storm.
A more representative, comprehensive depiction of writer’s cramp is as follows (not for the feint-hearted):
As every athlete has a speed that they cannot go faster, every bird has an altitude which it can climb no higher and every bird has a volume that they can sing no louder; well, every writer has their own limitations on how long they can continue writing in a fun, creative manner. It often follows that period where the writer is in a state of gloriously flow where beautifully constructed sentences form effortlessly and the imagination is magnificently captured in a way that gives the reader a portal into the writer’s mind.
After such a period, the writer is often compelled to continue writing but with disastrous consequences as the infamous ‘writer’s cramp’ ensues. At this point, any experienced writer will feel an overwhelming sense of dread as they understand that they are becoming ensnared by the horrors of writer’s cramp. Their hands and fingers become cramped as though microscopic leeches have burrowed into the muscles of their forearms and are persistently causing them to spasm and contract. The writer’s mind narrows in attention, creativity falters, and productive thoughts are stifled and replaced with overly self-critical ones. Questions such as, ‘why can’t I think of any more ideas?’, ‘is this piece even any good?’ start to appear. A terrible spiral of negativity is created as these thoughts drown your mind of creativity which leads to more self-critique which lead to more negative thoughts and so on. This is all accompanied by a desperate desire to finish the piece before time runs out – this desire becomes toxically obsessive and drags you down further. How they yearn for the golden period in time where writing was so enthralling and inspiring, now a distant memory.
Where does it end?
The only visible way out of the spiral is surely to finish the piece, but it seems that despite sustained efforts the speed of writing is becoming exponentially slower. A deep sense of worthlessness and self-loathing creep in as the writer asks themselves ‘will I ever get this finished?’, ‘what is wrong with me?’, ‘should I even be writing at all?’…

And now I have writer’s cramp. You may never read another entry from me again…