First Year Freelance Checkpoint: someone help me off the floor

I did it. I freelanced for 1 year as my full-time form of income. Now, I've never run any kind of marathon before (though one day I would like to attempt a short bike-a-thon), but I did spent some time on the floor of my apartment this week, reflecting on what I had done and had done to myself to myself. I've never been more glad to have stepped away from my public facing job in a shopping centre. Working at home and at my desk all day has changed my body, but it's a price I'm willing to pay to be away from questionable customers, getting covid, and escaping shift work.

I did end up trading all that in for crippling imposter syndrome, non-stop work hours because drawing boundaries in a work from home environment is very hard, and more projects and success than I could of hoped for. What I have done in the past year surpassed all of my goals. I told myself I would start off slow, find my bearings, and just focus on drawing rather than hunting down clients. It was nothing like that.

The Fringe. A magazine cover. Royal Bison. More opportunities that I can ask for. Is this a classic success story? I don't really know. It looks good on paper, but internally I've struggled with convincing myself that I've been successful. While I'm happy with what I've done and how these projects have turned out, I've never doubted myself more in my life. Every new project meant I negotiate the work of my skills, more to me than the client. Every project has its hiccups, where it looked awful and I told myself "This is it. This is the one that's going to tank you, the client is going to hate it, and we're done for." And the guilt and overthinking. Oof. I felt guilt for resting, for complaining about work even though I was in a career that I could only dream about, and for anything I could come up with (Ask Andrew, he witnessed it all). And then the stress from surviving in this world and making enough to pay for food and rent. It felt terrible charging folks for things when I know how many people have been struggling.

Andrew and I have wondered if I feel extra exhausted because I did this all during a pandemic. Maybe? Even without this, I'm sure I would've had similar meltdowns, bouts of overthinking, and regular subscriptions to imposter syndrome.

"But you're continuing on, right? Another year of freelancing?"
I think so. I feel like if I were to stop, then I would throwing this momentum away for nothing. I'm still doing okay and making enough that it's sustainable (on top of some part time work writing social media posts to pad my account). With the summer coming up, I think I'll have less depressive days. Might as well see where this takes me, right?