I am a tragic creative. No, not distressed or sorrowful. I mean tragic in the way that mid-2000’s teens insult you. I am sure you are too; trying to balance creative endeavors, taking care of your physical and mental health, and probably working a full-time job you don’t love.
I know I am supposed to be doing something creative, even though I try to steer away from it because I am afraid of failure. But, when I question what makes me happy or what I love to do (which is daily), I smirk at the thought that art, in some form, makes me happy. I don’t want to believe it though.
I am just another blogger, another writer. What’s the point?
Telling myself this lie is incredibly counterproductive. I find myself pushing blogging, painting, drawing, and even daydreaming out of my life. Which, in turn, makes me sad, angry, and resentful. Cue the misery! I am annoyed with my life because I am miserable and the daily grind that eats at my soul. I drag myself out of bed at 6 am to commute to work questioning why I am here and what I should be really doing. It’s a vicious cycle!
My blogging hiatus has definitely substantiated that I need a safe space for creativity in my life. I also have been toying with new ideas that I am really excited about and I hope I can make happen in the near future.
If this resonated with you, we both need to remember that we have a voice. It’s not a waste of time to put your art out there. Are we going to make it big? I don’t know if that’s my goal, but if it’s yours, anything can happen! You only lose if you do nothing at all. Being a creative, I’m learning, is incredibly rewarding. Not everything has to be monetized. You can do things that just make your heart happy.
Categories: Introvert Life