Do You Know the Symptoms of Creative Loss?

We’re all aware of the impact of grief and how the process is an intense, and often long-term, process.

In fact, suppressed grief can cause physical symptoms that can even become debilitating if not properly treated.

Can the same thing happen with creative grief? And what even is it?

A Picture of Creative Grief

As part of my creative recovery process, I’ve had to go over the events of the past few years to understand what’s standing in my way—what has been stopping me from even wanting to create.

My past few years have been a roller coaster, including two breakdowns along with cancer surgery and treatment. I went from bursting with creativity (I use the small ‘c’ here as it’s speaking about the term generally as opposed to my personal Creativity specifically) and thoroughly enjoying both writing and reading, to having no interest in it at all. I also went from creating cards and junk journals to not even wanting to pick up a paintbrush. I felt completely unlike myself and unsure if I ever would return to my creative self.

I knew I had a Creativity—I’d always known that—but where she was and what she was doing was beyond my ability to figure out.

Then I started The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, and I started looking at creative losses.

I had plenty of them.

I’d given away favourite writing books when moving.

I’d become incredibly critical of my finished work (that sounds like another post right there).

And, worst of all, I’d lost a story.

I’d been creating a science-fiction, lone wolf murder mystery which I had absolutely fallen in love with. I was making good progress before everything went haywire.

And then, through some very bad decisions, the story got deleted.

And I had no backup. (Lesson learned there!)

I was a good quarter of the way in, and everything was just…gone.

A year or so later I tried to write another story with the same character and it fell flat before I reached 2,000 words. I felt like I’d lost my nerve, my character, my creativity. It was just all gone. And maybe it was never coming back.

My feelings went beyond disappointment.

I was grieving.

And, of course, so was my Creativity.

I’m sure she has something to say on the subject.

So…don’t think me silly…but I still feel very sad about this.

And I’m not a sad kind of personality. I’m usually bubbly, and crazy, and haphazard, and irrepressible.

But today, on this subject, I’m…I’m sad.

Remember when we were talking about the fear of an idea never getting out into the world? Well this idea was not only getting out into the world but coming together in a way that just made me beam every day. And I mean EVERY day. The charaacter, the setup, the descriptions—ooh, I get goosebumps every time I think about them.

Sure, you’re thinking, it’s all very well and good to think something’s wonderful when it never even got to a beta reader. How do we know it was any good. THAT DOESN’T MATTER. It FELT good. It felt amazing. We were having so much FUN.
And then, all of a sudden, due to some really upsetting circumstances—POOF—gone!

Gone.

Completely and utterly gone.

I just want to curl up into a little ball and cry right now. And I have spent a lot of time as a little crying ball over the past few years.
And when you’re crying, your not good for much else.

You don’t want to paint. You don’t want to play piano. You don’t want to do a jigsaw. You don’t want to do nothing.

You’re like a sad little puppy that needs to be coaxed out of his bed to play. Only thing was Jessica didn’t want to play either.

So what do you do when your Creativity is in a ball?

The same thing you’d do for any friend who is grieving.

Start with imaginary flowers and say “I’m sorry this has happened.” And cry. Cry together. Cry till your tears run green, or purple, or whatever colour your tears run when you’re in your imagination. And then you say that you know it’s going to take time to recover, but you’re ready to be gentle and supportive and ready to go wherever your Creativity wants to go whenever they feel like it.

Because your Creativity’s expectations will be weird and sudden and sometimes intense in order to recover from the loss. Just the same as a normal person’s would be.

It’s loss. The first step is recognising it as such.

Causes of Creative Grief and Three Solutions

Deleting your favourite story isn’t the only kind of loss your Creativity can endure.

Receiving a bad review is a common trigger. Missing a creative goal. Realising your creative project is going to take much longer than you imagined. Finding out someone else has published a book or made a movie or performed a play that sounds just like an idea you had. Having to pivot or alter your idea to meet editorial review. (Although I would say if those edits are going to cause you grief, then it’s not the right thing to do!)

Grief happens. In real life and in imagination land. Recognising it is the first step. If your Creativity is MIA, find them. Discover how they’re feeling.

Then figure out what you and they need in order to recover. Are you even still on speaking terms? Is there a decision that needs apologising for? Do you need to promise never to do something again? Find out what you can do to help your Creativity recover.

And then expect a few bumps along the way. Your Creativity may want to read all the books in the library for a few months, or want to be allowed to play with all the pretty papers you’ve carefully collected over the years, or be taken for a beach holiday weekend where you can start work on your next song or book or painting.

Do whatever you need to do to recover. Treat yourself and your Creativity kindly and gently and thoughtfully.

It is possible to recover.

This blog post is proof of that.

Have you ever experienced creative loss? What are you doing to recover?