I don’t know when exactly I told my husband that I felt my inner, creative light had turned off. I do remember how I felt when I realised this.

I felt goal-less and soul-less and basically did everything to distract myself from that.

I watched crappy tv-shows and read trashy novels with, in hindsight, one goal: to distract myself.

I didn’t create much. I didn’t write. I just felt empty.

I tried to find excuses.

I was having a writer’s block. I just was in too much pain to make stuff. I was in a mess because I had no other choice.

I was too far in my darkness to see that I could choose to hold up a light for myself.

Seeking help

The first route I took to get out of that darkness was medical.

I asked for help for two things, getting out of the mental fog and my asthma, because not having energy to create didn't make me want to pursue shining my light.

The mental help I received was practical, showing me ways to cut through the fog and to find myself underneath. One of the most useful things I learned during that time was to take a moment every day to braindump, aka write down all I had on my mind in 15 minutes.

I sought help for my physical issues, and with a new inhaler and new protocols, I knew I could get healthy again.

The protocols helped, my lungs started to heal, but I still didn't create. I felt empty, still.

My life-changing decision

And then, somewhere last year, I was sick and tired of everything and decided to make a big change.

I started to push myself to do things that I always loved.

I started small. Instead of going for my Kindle, I picked up physical books. I made to be read stacks, I bought books that excited me, or books I remembered loving. I started to read books in genres that I used to love.

Even though it has nothing to do with creativity, it was an important first step. As a child, I always used to love reading in bed with a small light on, and, now with a book light, it brought up that same emotion.

The next step was that I started my daily poetry practice again, also on Mastodon.
And I loved that.

I then ALLOWED myself to just write whatever wanted to be written. No restrictions. I just wrote, and if I didn’t want to write more on that the next day, I didn’t care. I just wrote what I wanted to write on that day.

I discovered things I loved to do.

I wrote a story in verse just because I felt like it, and I loved it!

I started to knit fingerless gloves because my fingers got cold, writing, and found that once the pattern was stuck in my brain, knitting those was so calming.

I made art on my iPad again, a habit I’d also dropped.

I swapped offices with my husband and in the process I experimented and re-discovered what materials I really liked to work with.

I experimented with blogging again, and with journaling.

And slowly but surely, light started to shine again.

Because I played it back to life.