I started this blog last week with the strong intention of it helping me be creative on a daily basis. In some ways it has. I have written a few posts, shared some of my old art, and plugged my book(s). However, over the last few days that creative edge has been a little blunted again. It’s probably the time of year. I have mild SAD (seasonal adjustment disorder) and like many folk the dark cold months of winter aren’t good for my mood or creativity. Instead of using all that time productively while stuck indoors trying to stay warm I instead resort to what most people do, which is turn on Netflix and sit binge watching Daredevil with a pile of candy and salted nuts.

There’s nothing wrong with doing that. It’s just that I should be finishing a novel, or getting back to a painting I started four months ago and when I don’t then the sullen mood creeps back in slowly. To combat procrastination I try to get out of the house. Back in Scotland I had a routine where being out of the house often involved going to write in a café or pub. I haven’t quite got into that routine here. I don’t like writing at home, there’s too many distractions like laundry, TV, and the fridge, and I haven’t found that ‘special spot’ where I feel comfortable working yet and so, days pass without me writing a word. A lot of that has had to do with having routines that involved other people first and foremost, like the ex-wife and recent girlfriends rather than just myself. That isn’t the case now and while that isn’t the ideal long-term situation I do need to find my own way of life first and build on that. So, hopefully I’ll get my head around what I should be doing, and where I should be going each day to get some words down on the page.

Low mood and anxiety are my two major enemies. Anyone out there who is affected by either, or both, will know how difficult they can be individually, and how crippling they can be in combination. In my case they show themselves in a few different ways. Fatigue is a major symptom. sleep doesn’t ease it and the constant tiredness isn’t conducive to being creative either. It’s hard to concentrate on a hundred-thousand word piece of work when you can’t keep your eyes open – funnily enough, I usually can when It comes to watching hours of back to back episodes of whatever has caught my attention on my Netflix ‘to watch list’. If I get outside it’s usually to go wander around the shops – Target is a favorite at the moment, mostly because it’s right next to the cinema that I frequent two or three times a week. Going to the movies isn’t a waste of my time as far as I’m concerned, it helps with my creative process, gives me ideas, and shows me what not to do. Target on the other hand just empties my wallet. The other symptom is doubt. That in itself isn’t a bad thing. Doubting whether your story or painting is good enough for other people to buy or enjoy is, in many ways, a good buffer between vanity and throwing any old shit out there with your name attached to it. It happens, I know people who seem to have zero awareness of just how poor quality the work they are doing is, and because of that their work doesn’t improve. However, doubt in too big a dose can stop you in your tracks. Make you leave every page blank, every idea gathering dust. That’s how doubt works on me.  

So, anyway. The last few days has been another procrastination stumble. Though, in fairness to myself, I have been writing another long rambling post that isn’t finished yet. I can only hope that the money I’ve spent in these last few days will help get me up and running again. The Firestick probably will not (nine more Daredevil episodes to go), the Amazon Echo possibly will as I can have a hairband soundtrack playing beside me now and ask Alexa to tell me jokes occasionally, and the one purchase which should help is the desk chair which means I can’t say I don’t have anything to sit on now. If I can stay awake, find a comfy café, and stop walking the aisles of Target then I may just manage to finish (with all the edits) the latest novel on time. Easter penciled in. Maybe I should use ink to push me forward (note to self: look for pens at Target).