Death of a skill.
I have taken 5 minutes to just feel the keys of my keyboard. Its been so long since the last time I wrote here. In fact, its been a very long time since I wrote anything at all. The things that made me happy or peaceful don't do the same to me any more. Its weird. At first it scared me, the thought of not being able to express myself any more. Words were the only thing that came easy to me. And now I seem to have lost that.
Last year I started writing a book. It was the most creatively satisfying thing I have ever done. It was maddeningly consuming. Developing characters, creating unique people in a unique world that your mind so lovingly designed. A new detail would echo in my head every day. At first it was exciting but soon it got hard. I didn't realise the commitment I had made would be a hard one to keep up with. That's what happened, from writing two chapters everyday the frequency reduced to once a month. Sometimes longer. I couldn't help it, college and tests took most of my time.
I decide I'd rewrite and finish the entire book my June 2015.
Well, I haven't. Like I said, I haven't written in ages. A few months ago I gave my boards and I had to put my writing aside or I'd fail my exams. I gave it my best shot, studied my ass off. And then came my results. I can say with confidence that the moment I saw my result was the worst moment of my life. I sat paralysed for ten minutes thinking its not real, thinking that refreshing the webpage will magically change my marks. But it didn't. I obviously didn't fail but I certainly didn't secure the marks I studied for. And now my entire future depends on this stupid number. Its so sad how a two digit number can make you doubt yourself so badly. The worst is seeing the disappointment in your parents eyes. They try to hide it. My mom didn't say anything terrible to me. She said its okay. That its just an exam. But what else can she say when her daughters a mess. After all, she is a mother. Its her instinct to protect me.
It didn't seem like a big deal to anyone but me. It was just a stupid exam. But that isn't the point, the point is setting aside all your passion for one thing and then focusing all your energy on another only to see it go futile. I let myself down. That's the worst feeling. Feeling worthless, incapable and miserable. The last one and a half week, I have done nothing productive. I avoided my friends. Avoided calls. I felt like I wasn't worth being around them. Its stupid I know. But thats just how i felt. I felt like I would be the stupidest person in the room. So I didn't leave the couch. I slept all day, stared at walls, aimlessly watched tv without paying any attention. I'm known to be productive and creative and these last few days I felt like I'm at the bottom of a pit. I have no thoughts, no words, no willingness or inspiration to do anything at all. The worst part is, before that result day I was doing great things, I was finally travelling. I was exploring nooks and corners of the city. Practising for the real world. So full of excitement and passion. Making memories. Even then I didn't write but at least I was passionate about something. Since there's nothing great to write about I'll make a few posts for pictures I've taken lately.
A friend told me I seem dead from the inside now. I told her its just a phase. That I will start writing again. That i will find passion for music again. I haven't painted in months. I have tried writing everyday, tried finishing my book or maybe just a short story, even a paragraph for an instagram post. But i fail and i keep failing. And now i just don't want to try any more. Creativity is a vessel thats filled with feelings. Its like you need to feel something to create something, anything. Whether its an art piece, a story or a song. What can I do when I dont feel anything at all. Sometimes I feel like people don't get where all of me comes from. I wasn't born the person they know. I can't always talk to them and support them or be the great friend. And just because I dont do all that for a few days, or the other hobbies i engage myself in, doesn't mean I am dead on the inside. Failure takes a while to get over for god sake.
But here I am babbling about my issues. Ranting. Which is in a way writing too. Well, I think I owe it to the blog. This is like a post to explain myself. To my blog. Yes i know my blog is not a person, just an html code putting my words out there. But i owe so much to me blog. In my worst moments this place has made me feel safe and happy. I had to explain why I've ignored my happy place, for so long. Writing, drawing, painting, travelling, being artistic and creative and having a different attachment to music is all there was to me. Thats how I've been defined so far. I seem to have lost my love for half of the things I mentioned. That does scare me a little. But i feel like I have reached a place in my life where i need to begin again. start all over. Because I swear, the last months have sucked. Everything is changing, everyone is leaving, everyone is moving on and soon I will too. I know change is the only constant, even if its not always good. I'm just not ready. I feel like a fat kid in a 500m race with national level runners. Its like being in a car that should be moving with the other cars, but instead i'm just stationary, while everything and everyone else is doing great things and moving forward. And i'm stuck in the same place. I don't want to be stuck but I dont want to move so fast either. In a few months I'll be living alone, away from my family and friends. And that is so fucking terrifying. The only thing that kept me happy in my company were my thoughts and writing them down. I seem to have lost that too. Its weird how I'm inching closer to the character in my book. It was easier to write about her when I wasn't her. She was a version of me that I'd locked in a long time ago. That no one ever saw. And now I'm this close to being her and I can't even finish her story. Irony sucks. Expectations suck. Expectations kill.
Is it possible to lose a skill? Can Something you think is inherent and innate within you, die?
If anyone is reading this, don't ever force yourself to stop doing what you love. Ever.
Last year I started writing a book. It was the most creatively satisfying thing I have ever done. It was maddeningly consuming. Developing characters, creating unique people in a unique world that your mind so lovingly designed. A new detail would echo in my head every day. At first it was exciting but soon it got hard. I didn't realise the commitment I had made would be a hard one to keep up with. That's what happened, from writing two chapters everyday the frequency reduced to once a month. Sometimes longer. I couldn't help it, college and tests took most of my time.
I decide I'd rewrite and finish the entire book my June 2015.
Well, I haven't. Like I said, I haven't written in ages. A few months ago I gave my boards and I had to put my writing aside or I'd fail my exams. I gave it my best shot, studied my ass off. And then came my results. I can say with confidence that the moment I saw my result was the worst moment of my life. I sat paralysed for ten minutes thinking its not real, thinking that refreshing the webpage will magically change my marks. But it didn't. I obviously didn't fail but I certainly didn't secure the marks I studied for. And now my entire future depends on this stupid number. Its so sad how a two digit number can make you doubt yourself so badly. The worst is seeing the disappointment in your parents eyes. They try to hide it. My mom didn't say anything terrible to me. She said its okay. That its just an exam. But what else can she say when her daughters a mess. After all, she is a mother. Its her instinct to protect me.
It didn't seem like a big deal to anyone but me. It was just a stupid exam. But that isn't the point, the point is setting aside all your passion for one thing and then focusing all your energy on another only to see it go futile. I let myself down. That's the worst feeling. Feeling worthless, incapable and miserable. The last one and a half week, I have done nothing productive. I avoided my friends. Avoided calls. I felt like I wasn't worth being around them. Its stupid I know. But thats just how i felt. I felt like I would be the stupidest person in the room. So I didn't leave the couch. I slept all day, stared at walls, aimlessly watched tv without paying any attention. I'm known to be productive and creative and these last few days I felt like I'm at the bottom of a pit. I have no thoughts, no words, no willingness or inspiration to do anything at all. The worst part is, before that result day I was doing great things, I was finally travelling. I was exploring nooks and corners of the city. Practising for the real world. So full of excitement and passion. Making memories. Even then I didn't write but at least I was passionate about something. Since there's nothing great to write about I'll make a few posts for pictures I've taken lately.
A friend told me I seem dead from the inside now. I told her its just a phase. That I will start writing again. That i will find passion for music again. I haven't painted in months. I have tried writing everyday, tried finishing my book or maybe just a short story, even a paragraph for an instagram post. But i fail and i keep failing. And now i just don't want to try any more. Creativity is a vessel thats filled with feelings. Its like you need to feel something to create something, anything. Whether its an art piece, a story or a song. What can I do when I dont feel anything at all. Sometimes I feel like people don't get where all of me comes from. I wasn't born the person they know. I can't always talk to them and support them or be the great friend. And just because I dont do all that for a few days, or the other hobbies i engage myself in, doesn't mean I am dead on the inside. Failure takes a while to get over for god sake.
But here I am babbling about my issues. Ranting. Which is in a way writing too. Well, I think I owe it to the blog. This is like a post to explain myself. To my blog. Yes i know my blog is not a person, just an html code putting my words out there. But i owe so much to me blog. In my worst moments this place has made me feel safe and happy. I had to explain why I've ignored my happy place, for so long. Writing, drawing, painting, travelling, being artistic and creative and having a different attachment to music is all there was to me. Thats how I've been defined so far. I seem to have lost my love for half of the things I mentioned. That does scare me a little. But i feel like I have reached a place in my life where i need to begin again. start all over. Because I swear, the last months have sucked. Everything is changing, everyone is leaving, everyone is moving on and soon I will too. I know change is the only constant, even if its not always good. I'm just not ready. I feel like a fat kid in a 500m race with national level runners. Its like being in a car that should be moving with the other cars, but instead i'm just stationary, while everything and everyone else is doing great things and moving forward. And i'm stuck in the same place. I don't want to be stuck but I dont want to move so fast either. In a few months I'll be living alone, away from my family and friends. And that is so fucking terrifying. The only thing that kept me happy in my company were my thoughts and writing them down. I seem to have lost that too. Its weird how I'm inching closer to the character in my book. It was easier to write about her when I wasn't her. She was a version of me that I'd locked in a long time ago. That no one ever saw. And now I'm this close to being her and I can't even finish her story. Irony sucks. Expectations suck. Expectations kill.
Is it possible to lose a skill? Can Something you think is inherent and innate within you, die?
If anyone is reading this, don't ever force yourself to stop doing what you love. Ever.
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