f is for funk
Is it possible to lose your creativity? Like a set of keys. Misplaced in the fridge, accidentally kicked under the sofa, deep in the pockets of the jeans you wore yesterday? I’ve retraced my steps but no matter how hard I try, I can’t remember when I felt it last.
Maybe it’s stress and worry and lack of sleep conspiring against creativity. I haven’t done my morning pages in months, haven’t been in the mood to pick up my camera. Christ! The last time I posted anything on Instagram was nearly two weeks ago. I haven’t even felt like looking at Instagram. For someone who’s posted almost daily and fairly consistently for the past few years… I just don’t have the oomph. Perhaps muses take sabbaticals like the rest of us? Maybe mine is sipping a Mai Tai on some beach in Bali.
Elizabeth Gilbert says that “The universe buries strange jewels deep within us all, and then stands back to see if we can find them.” Well, either the universe skipped me altogether or I’m blind. I can’t even get a job interview for fuck’s sake (self-deprecation, always super helpful!) In all honesty though, my self-esteem is at an all-time low. I’ve been changing nappies and teaching someone to say ba-na-na and singing the wheels on the bus go round and round and round for the past year. I look like I’m about 98 years old. And we’re moving into a flat that we can’t afford at the end of next month and our heating doesn’t work and I have to find a nursery for Wren and I’m just paralysed with fear. Scared shitless of every little thing. I am so deep down in this funk, you guys. Does this ever happen to you? Where every little thing just feels like one little thing too much. Too much? Too many? Ah! Fuck it! Who gives a shite. And is there anything worse than feeling unhappy when you know that really, there’s nothing to be unhappy about? Like in a at-least-I-don’t-have-to-walk-15-miles-to-get-a-glass-of-water-from-the-village-well kind of unhappy.
So this is a pretty depressing post, isn’t it? And as you can see, I’m not even trying to pull myself up by my bootstraps. I’m just running deeper down the rabbit hole. But I figured it was that or no post at all and I did promise to write. So there. It’s been a tough month. I’m having a moan. Tomorrow’s another day. Maybe my muse will come back. Or maybe I’ll eat a whole bag of potato chips for lunch.
P.S. Reading this post has helped immensely. Motherhood can sometimes be a lonely ride and it’s good to know we’re not alone.