Last night I came face-to-face with the fact that I’m clinging to distractions.
Sleep hasn’t been coming easily, so I’ve been avoiding sleep; Developing habits that don’t make sleep come any quicker.
When I closed my laptop for the third, and thankfully final, time, I paused to wonder why it was such a difficult task.
What’s so comforting about artificial light that slowly ruins my sight, my fingers on a keyboard that will eventually give me carpel tunnel, and a couch-cocoon that induces a horrid posture, systematically making my preexisting back and neck problems much worse?
I guess the thought is that if I spend my nights watching the simultaneously exaggerated and understated emotional roller coaster of Ally McBeal’s life, I won’t have to experience my own.
What do I feel most guilty about whilst clinging desperately to this L-shaped time-sucker? The fact that I’m not creating anything.
The things I want to create are things I can’t create right now. Still, that doesn’t give me an excuse to sit around and be depressed. The weird thing is, I did create last night. I made three versions of a poster for a show while listening to some of my favorite songs.
It just wasn’t fulfilling. Once I had beaten the design to the ground and couldn’t come at it with the right touch anymore (which happened to be at about an hour and a half in), I was just filled with sadness. I didn’t feel good about how I spent that time.
Why is that? I love making things. I love coming up with designs. I even like the design I came up with. It’s nearly finished, and I think it looks pretty good. But it’s just not giving me what I need creatively.
Maybe it wasn’t challenging enough. Or I don’t feel my own stamp on it enough. Or I don’t feel other peoples’ approval from it yet (UNHEALTHY – I KNOW).
I think I’d feel better about painting, but it’s much more of a risk to me for some reason. Maybe because of the materials wasted when it doesn’t come out right and the inability to CTRL+Z my way out of mistakes. You can invest hours in a poster online and have no visible flaws to speak of. But when it comes to paint, it’s much more human.
That’s what I love about it and what makes it so hard to tackle. There’s always that voice asking, “Why are you doing this?” and egging on insecurity with, “You’re not good enough to make anything anyone would want to use or think is good.”
I know that’s something I have to get past. I hit those walls in every avenue of life – like I imagine others do too. But lately maybe I feel a little more entitled to my sadness and a little more scared to let go of it than usual.
For my own happiness, I know I have to.
A dear friend wrote a fantastic song about battling those insecurities and questions. Check it out: Grant Peeples – You’re a Slave to Your Imagination.