Check out “The Outside” by new author R.T Duncan. As a new author, Duncan is looking for feedback, critiques and reviews to improve so why don’t you download and see what you think?!
We’ve all experienced brain fog.
Normal brain fog is usually the inability to think clearly, make sense of a situation or use any problem solving skills. It’s a frustrating feeling, but there is a worse kind.
Emotional brain fog.
This occurs when you are so overwhelmed you can’t think rationally anymore.
I feel like that recently. There has just been too much, and I have reached my capacity. My brain cascades into numbness, I can feel it falling, shutters closing around me and then there is nothing. No errant thoughts and ponderings wandering across my mind, just the screams of the overwhelmed, the whimpers of the tired. I have very little fight left in me. I don’t know how to recuperate anymore. The words start but trail off a few sentences in.
Even writing this is taking longer than usual.
I need a break from everything, but in this modern life when do we get to take a break? I have to be at work at 9am tomorrow. How much of a break can you get in an evening where you have so many things to do, that can’t wait.
If anyone knows the answer, please give me a hint…
To create is to live. I believe that every single one of us on the planet has the ability to create and be creative, and I believe that through a creative process, we come alive.
As a child many of us are constantly creating, making a mud hill, painting a picture, creating a make believe world, a story, lego structures, forts, etc. I believe that through this creative process we learn. It is a way of interacting with the world, of pushing boundaries and limits and learning about yourself.
The simple joy of creating a mud hill, playing in water or drawing for the sake of drawing seems to disappear when we are adults, and yet I believe that this process something so naturally human. It is a basic creative mode, where there is no goal, no outcome to be monitored or assessed, just fun to be had in being creative.
This is something I vow to do more of, to reconnect with that creative inner child, who has no critical demons demolishing the thing that she creates with self doubt and ideas of failure. To just create for the sake of creating and just to be in the moment with that process.
Perhaps I am just destined to live my life feeling vaguely frustrated and agitated and not being able to put my finger on it and fill it.
Lately I have been feeling a creative block. Inspiration has been at my fingertips but just out of reach.
I find it so easy to slip into a numb yet frustrated melancholy when this occurs, and give up on things too easily, because I just don’t have the will power or incentive to try anything. All too often I will be struck by some inspiration or motivation but when I’m busy doing something else, and by the time I am free to do whatever it was I was feeling excited about, that feeling has gone and I end up doing nothing. That is exactly why I am writing this at this moment in time, I arrived at work today and was suddenly filled with positivity and inspiration and motivation and sunshine, but I can’t do any of the things that I truly want to be doing because I am stuck at work for the next 8.5 hours. So instead I am channeling that feeling into writing, that energy has to go somewhere, and no, I don’t want to channel it into my work, thanks. My work is uninspiring and suffocating, so let’s leave that there.
But I find it so hard to be creative and motivated at home!!
I notice though that despite now feeling the inspiration and motivation, it has not got rid of the frustration. Perhaps I am just destined to live my life feeling vaguely frustrated and agitated and not being able to put my finger on it and fill it.
When I have no motivation I find myself filled with doubt, insecurities, self-dissatisfaction, self-berating thoughts which push me further into the hole that I am in, but I seem quite incapable of stopping myself from doing it. I have no internal locus of evaluation, which is pathetic, and probably why I can’t commit to anything or get my arse in gear and do things.
So today I feel pumped and I want to go to a yoga class and a Zumba class and go find a beer garden near a river and fall asleep on some grass and sit under a tree and read a book, and I want to write, and get on with some of my projects and take pictures of weird tiny objects and make a cool thing and organise my belongings and maybe hang some pictures….
I resent my work because I don’t want to be here. When these moods strike me I want to be free to do something about it. By the time I have finished work and got home my enthusiasm for doing things has waned considerably, and I tend to dick around, or hang out with people, instead of doing something productive, and I can’t keep beating myself up about it, because I have been doing something productive for 9 hours, it was just for someone else’s benefit, not mine.
So maybe I can’t control my swings of motivation vs hedonism, but I should probably try to be nicer to myself about it and stop beating myself up and holding myself to such a ridiculously high standard, or at least I can hold myself to that standard but not expect myself to meet it every second of every day. It is ok to have blips and emotions and not be feeling it.
It is my birthday on 5th May. I shall be 29 years old, and that is possibly the most terrifying thing that has ever happened to me (or is about to happen).
Why does this feel so terrifying?
Perhaps in my head I associate being in your 20’s as the time to grow as a person, achieve, make connections, set your life out and get your shit together. It is the time to blossom, to have the magical moment where you become a person.
I do not feel yet like I am quite a person. Still a piece of plaster-cine in need of molding.
My peers look at me expectantly, as though they too expect me to be a fully assembled person, and I am afraid I just am not. They live wonderful lives of conformity, doing all the things society deems we should at this age, marriage, kids, mortgages, things that I have no interest in.
I want to go to a city centre and take black and white photographs of pidgeons and weird buildings.
I want to discover a weird bar and drink there all day talking to weird and fascinating people.
I want to meet random people and invent a new sport.
I want to listen to music loud and let it fill and nourish my soul.
I want to buy some super soakers from a pound shop and chase my friends around a town centre. But my friends don’t want to do that.
They want to go home in their finance cars, to a home that they have bought, where a spouse awaits with a meal and an evening in front of the telly where they tell each other about their days and then go try to make a baby.
Trying to make a baby sounds like the worst thing you can do to sex. How to make it go from sexy to a regimented boring outcome orientated activity.
But these are just my opinions. I support all choices, and I am happy for people who want to live that life, any life, but it is not a life for me. I feel increasingly isolated in my beliefs and outlook.
Increasingly I see people who are accomplished, grown up looking, fully functioning people, who I assume are older than me, only to find out that they are actually some years younger than me. I don’t know if I look old, I see my face everyday so can’t judge, but I probably do.
I can no longer use the excuse “because I’m only young”.
Mortality starts to become a little more real when you find yourself doing something without thinking of the consequences, and then hurting yourself.
My body has changed (largely because of the implant) but I am sure were I younger I would find it easier to shift the excess weight.
Yet inside I feel unchanged. Wiser, better, stronger, but not a grown up yet.
On the plus side I thought about turning 30 next year and started hyperventilating, so 29 isn’t that bad….
Who Am I? What Am I?
I have always struggled with these kinds of questions. I literally have no clue how other people perceive me. My usual answer to these questions is “quiet, a bit weird” or “laid-back, friendly?”.
I recently did an art piece using words to describe me, words that I had come up with and words I had asked other about. When it was finished I was pleased that I had come up with so many words, and I started going through them, but I realised that whilst the words written in front of me did in fact describe me, they could also describe billions of other people on the planet. Yes I was looking at an accurate description of myself, but not one that anyone would look at and guess immediately, “That’s got to be “L”!”.
So what would make someone say that? What could I put onto paper, that wasn’t a picture of myself, that would make someone say, “That’s you, definitely you.”
Is that what makes us, us? The bits in the middle, the bits that don’t seem important but that are unique to you.
I sat staring at it, feeling deflated, and wondering what I was missing. What was I?!
I am a
girl woman who refers to herself as a girl when she really isn’t one anymore.
I am a woman who traces facial features, clothing hems and outlines, signs, traffic, and subtitled punctuation with her thumb obsessively, constantly and unconsciously.
I am a woman who drinks weak black decaf coffee and strong green tea. I drink weak gin and tonics and strong commercial beer.
I am full of regret and sadness.
I am full of hope and ideas.
I am a disillusioned Disney Princess who likes a drink.
I am a childless mother.
I am a walking existential crisis.
I am a health conscious smoker.
I am a workshy workaholic.
I am a depressed therapist.
I am the socially awkward life of the party.
I am a walking fucking contradiction, and I still don’t know if any of this is something people would read and say, that’s “L” right there.
What do you think constitutes as making someone “Who they are”?