Burnout. Yes. There are days. Sometimes weeks. Often it’s hard to suck it up and pretend to be an artist. Creative burnout. It’s real. And it’s horrid.
And I’m there.
On days…weeks…months like this I want to walk into Starbucks with my application and beg for a job. I want someone else to tell me what to do. I’m tired. Exhausted more like it. I don’t want to be in charge.
The last 8 months have taken a toll. Moving. Studio changes. Rental homes. Trying to figure out how to be the attentive mom and the working mom. Guess what? Failing. And that is what I see when I look in the mirror. A much more tired, older, unsuccessful me. Burnout.
Yes, I know I judge myself too hard. I know. But it’s hard to give yourself a break. I wanted to be the college mom who put together amazing care packages for her kids and surprised them with flowers and cookies. But I don’t. And I barely talk to them…and they are minutes down the road. I want to be the classroom mom for middle school, get to know her friends, be involved. But moms kinda scare me and I work too much to have the free time to volunteer. I want to have the home for my high schooler to come and hang out with her friends. Make them food. Give them a place to chill. But our rental home barely fits us.
The pile is just too big. Super mom. Super business woman…she doesn’t exist. Why I feel like she has to? Why do you? And the judgement from others? Don’t even get me started there. What is this enormous pressure we put on ourselves? No one can stand under it. No one. Especially me…right now…in this moment.
But. Studio Jewel must go on. And in reality. I want it to. But in a season of creative burnout it’s hard to to see past the “have to” to the “WOW…I get to!”
I guess I need to take my own advice. Going back to a post I wrote a long time ago about how to deal with the burnout.
But mostly, I need to look in the mirror and see me again. NOT the tired aging me. But the me that loves life and my family and people and laughter and creating. I need to forgive myself for being…gasp…human.
Thank you for giving me this place today. To be just that…human. A creative, artistic, loving human that often feels too deeply and too much. Thank you for giving me a place to exhale. To breathe. And…to remind anyone else who just might be feeling that same weight…you are not alone.
much, much love, lisa