WHO defines mental health as “a state of well-being in which an individual realizes his or her abilities, can cope with the normal stresses of life, can work productively and can contribute to his or her community.” It further states the elements of mental wellbeing include self-acceptance, personal growth, purpose in life, environmental mastery, autonomy and positive relations with others.
Looking back, “creating” seems to have been a constant growing up. I was surrounded by people working with their hands ─creating with fabric, food, wood or as others preferred, words. Some of my earliest memories are of being engrossed in one book, encouraged to lose myself further in it and the many more that waited, safe. I can still recall being enraptured by finger puppets on evenings of darkness, shadows on the living room walls accompanied by fun stories. Perhaps because the creative life was always admired and celebrated by the adults around me embracing it was easier when I got older. Initially backed by a “professional” degree this was always treated as an experiment. If all failed I could always return to my “real” life I thought. Through the years this experimentation has led me to jewellery, cake, crafts, and fabric with words not too far behind. The work produced has been as sporadic and inconsistent in quality as my skill and commitment to the process were. It wasn’t until recently though when a direct correlation between my happiness and “creating” was revealed that I decided to commit to this work wholeheartedly. That moment gave me a glimpse into why I have always gravitated to creative works. But as freeing as this declaration to self was, increased intentionality in the months since has kindled old tormentors, self-doubt and anxiety.
While the creative process differs from one artistic person to another, mine is characterized by three main sections. The glorious start when inspiration beckons promising exciting, groundbreaking characters and stories. In my mind, the ideas roll around haunting and demanding my attention until I can settle down and acknowledge them. This period is often filled with anticipation and excitement. Everything seems possible, we can embark on this journey yet again I tell myself. This excitement has on occasion been dulled by the pressure to find the “spark” in time for a given deadline. In those times inspiration becomes an elusive being, growing fainter and fainter with the increase in the time pressure.
The middle is murky. Burdened with frustrating hard work and usually taking days with my mind going back and forth, the black-hole of drafts, countless desertions internally all with increasing panic and anxiety till I am convinced “all is a lie,” “I am a lie,” “this is madness!” The murky middle is also when the exciting ideas that drew me fall flat on paper, proven as nothing more than reservoirs. For a moment it seems like this desperate state can be curtailed by research only for that to lead me into one rabbit hole and then another. The process of extricating myself from these is filled with confusion. The pressure to “choose the best way forward” weaponised to trigger uncertainty and self-doubt which can become debilitating if not managed. So much for the glory. But we aren’t done yet.
I am not sure whether my struggle with this process is predicated on having been largely self-taught, lacking a validation that comes with certification and easily recognizable hours of training. The angst brought on by my creative process leaves me desperate to walk away altogether and return to a “happier time” sans creating. In tandem, I have to stave off feelings of guilt and shame along with their accompanying music, “Nobody likes a quitter!” “How will you know if you are good at this if you quit now?” “So many people are rooting for you!” Occasionally when the work demands solitary spaces with everyone shushed and willed away over long periods, the silence spurs mental rehashes of past failures and disappointments all to the “you will never amount to anything” soundtrack. When I have spoken of the internal conflict I face with this I have been reminded of the many others that have and still deal with similar conflicts. Like a list of names, famous ones included will stay the strain, allay the anxieties or drown the darkness threatening. Knowing they struggle and have accomplished much only makes the pressure worse, reinforcing the mocking.
Some days the weight of applying intention to the craft is crushing, overwhelmingly so. Having to show up constantly, facing-off with the anxieties and the scary world of what I am yet to learn, all under threat of impending failures is emotionally and mentally taxing. With nothing left to give on those days all I want is the safety of my covers or the mindlessness of Tv or both. Admittedly, struggles with my mental health precede this newfound commitment but it would appear its demands exacerbate the fragility of my wellness measures.
So why go on? Largely because “creating” ─when I can get through the insanity it triggers─ gives me immense joy and that is a worthwhile pursuit. Particularly, as I have embraced a commitment to writing in the past year, its joy has been in allowing me to process my experiences and the muddled emotions they trigger. Giving life to characters and stories I never would have trusted myself to before is thrilling. I do enjoy this work and the light it brings me. It is for this that I force my way through the creative process’ onslaught on my mental wellness. On the days when it gets overwhelming though, I am learning to take breaks from it all, to walk away and engage with something else something that fills me with joy, a joy separate from my “effort.” I am also big on rest, prolonged physical exhaustion has been known to weaken my mental buffers, as such I have no qualms saying no to any activity so I can get some downtime and regroup. I am learning to re-structure my life better, for example, when I say yes to new opportunities, I do so on the condition that I release another. This way I avoid putting my mind and emotions under untenable strain while holding onto too many demands at any one time. To counter the scary editorial process, I surround myself with positive feedback. Every piece I write is reviewed by a trusted group of creatives whose skill is proven and feedback I can hear objectively most times. I find this helps me buckle up, preparing me for the editors. I am also practicing thinking differently about the process, attaching more positive names to its scary, daunting, overwhelming aspects. Sometimes it works to look at the research as an adventure or polishing as beneficial. Experience has taught me to guard my mental wellness fiercely, to cling to fostering environments like a protective shield. Finally, I have to remind myself to trust the process to know it’s not set in stone and can be altered as my needs demand. After all, I do want to get better with my mental wellness and with my creating.