So Much To Do, But Hi

I have an {expletive}-ton of TO-DOs right now.

So why am I here, talking to you people? Shouldn’t I be responsible and get my work done?

Well I’m coming to the realization that this is not, in fact, a waste of my time, but a necessary part of my process. And I can’t fight it anymore unless I want to fail at literally everything, or rather, continue failing at literally everything.

I’ve been denying an essential part of myself thanks to my insecurities and unfair comparisons to people I admire. But the truth is, I’m a creative, and without my crafts as an outlet, I will surely be crushed from the ennui of everyday life.

I am a writer. I am a fiber artist. I bake. I thrive on the artistic creations of others. I’m learning that my perceived level of skill or worth in these pursuits is irrelevant to how they fuel me to live. But in the desperate rationing of time and energy, both of which I have too little of, I keep putting these things to the side. I keep reducing their importance. Focusing only on work and responsibilities and other pressures.

My work and responsibilities and other pressures are falling short though. I’m not in it, and I can’t push myself through to complete the tasks at hand. This is what happens every time:

I stare at a screen, at my emails, at market research, at homework. My mind scatters. I sit there and watch time. Watch it leave. With my unfinished work and added stress left in its wake. I drift away and dive deep into my head, a place where I have no business frequenting. Marinating in it. Just stewing. And before you know it I’ve cooked up a whole five-course candlelit dinner. By candlelit, I meant the room is on fire. And the flames keep rising higher, fueled by the sorry remains of my focus and laptop battery juice. And then the alarm triggers and I have to answer phone calls, texts, and emails about what’s missing and why I haven’t gotten anything done.

Then I have more things to do, plus make up things to do, plus explanations and apologies, and I have to do all of that with the feeling of inadequacy looming overhead. And I take failure very hard. Once I mess something up, it’s a slippery slope because I beat myself up about the one mistake, and drain all the energy I had to fix it and move on.

That is me trying to live life like I’m not a little off. I am a little off. I think blueberry juice tastes like purple, I only paint the nails on my right hand, and I open doors by pulling the handle up and not down. And that’s not a problem. But not understanding that I’m not going to accomplish things at the same rate and by the same methods as most people is killing me. So here I am on my blog. And my head feels clearer. I feel motivated. My goals seem very attainable now. I don’t feel trapped, and I’m collected. I’m actually thinking of the content I needed to create for my job. It’s all lining up. Because I needed to let myself be so I can do. And in being, I am now ready to go, ready to move and not stop.

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