I have severe artist's block. That is not to say I'm an artist, of course -- I consider myself to merely be a person who has fine technical skills and is good at duplicating what others have done in the past. I'm not original, what I create is not original, and it's a source of stress for me when I try to be original.
This funk has stayed with me for quite awhile now. I remember trying to design a new format for one of my pages and I was unable to come up with any graphics I was satisfied with. I felt like I had no creativity and no eye to make something new. Quite depressing. I had to postpone the project (although I think I'll just cancel it, since it pertains to a subject I'm no longer interested in).
Now I'm trying to write letters, essays, and work on homework, and the block of clouded thinking has crushed me there too. I'm not in the zone I usually am. It takes me awhile to pull the right word out of my large vocabulary. I have to think about it -- it's not coming naturally right now.
This causes increasingly frustrating amounts of stress for me, since writing is a source of confidence and concreteness for me. When I write something good, I feel great, and I end up learning more about myself when I'm done. But now I can't even get started. I don't know where to begin. I'm not able to think constantly about the things I usually do -- I'm confined in what I consider to be a stagnated mind, and this stasis will maliciously catch up with me in the future.
It's really getting to me tonight. On top of the essay being late, I have schoolwork to do, a Web project to prepare for, my birthday to anticipate, and some other things. Those things have made me pushy and irritable. Good thing my roommate is sleeping.
If by chance you are new to this sort of feeling, here I go: you have access to all parts of your body and you have a pretty good idea of what's going on around you. You start thinking, talking, or writing, and all the sudden you hit a brick wall. You can't seem to get the right word out and you are upset because of it. When you navigate around in your primitive, slow human body, you can't shake the fact that there's something missing in you.
You feel incomplete, like a thief of the night stole a part of your flesh without your noticing. It doesn't hurt, really, as your body has numbed the pain, but you are acutely aware that you're bleeding severely.
You feel stagnated and inferior, in a way. You feel like you're not who you are, that you're some sort of stranger that you must avoid. Your inability to produce things makes you think you're stupid and trapped inside a simplistic world.
I think what's causing this is merely a case of having too much on the mind, mainly schoolwork. This happens to me often (heck, it's what I do best), but usually it doesn't impair my thinking. Usually because I think about so much, I am able to write something wonderful.
My artist's block will pass eventually, and then I'll be in full form again. It'll just take time to work it all out...agonizingly s l o w time.
And for me, that's lost time.
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