A Letter to My Burned Out Creative Self

Inspired by a Ko-Fi challenge, May being Mental Health Awareness Month, my recent chat with Gala Russ on Writing Conversations, and my own patterns of getting burned out (which have once again resurfaced), this blog post is written primarily to myself. I often journal my thoughts in this way (yes, with headings and everything!), but this time, I’m choosing to let other writers and creatives in on what’s going on in my brain. My hope is that you’ll be able to take away some insights you can use to prevent yourself from burning out next time—and that you’ll take to heart the fact that you’re not alone.

Megan, you burned out again! What did we say about not letting that happen? What did we say about this year being a transformation and creating a life that allows for the rest we deserve, and blah-blah-blah?

You didn’t come up for air, and then you ran out of oxygen. That’s what happened.

You’re too pretty smart for this. You’re smart enough to recognize the patterns you live through. Dummy.

How You Know You’re About to Burn Out

Your current WIP stops sparking joy; or, you get restless.

What’s tricky about this is that there are multiple reasons why you may not want to write on any given day. And, yes, it is possible for a few of those days to happen in a row. But when it gets to be a full week (even that’s probably too long) of I don’t want to I don’t want to I don’t want to, and you keep going anyway, that’s a problem.

That’s you setting yourself up for disaster.

You don’t start working on a story in the first place unless you’re obsessed with it—that’s how you know it’s got potential. All of the stories floating in your head have potential. The story is not the problem. It’s never the problem. The problem is that you get to a point where the words don’t come as easily, you have to go back to look at your notes more often, and the fixes for plot holes and uncooperative characters come less willingly, and then you keep going.

You already know you can solve any writing problem for you and for others. It should be the biggest, sparkliest red flag to you when you can’t get the dots connected. You are second to none at connecting dots.

That’s your brain screaming for a break. To rest and replenish the creative well or cup or what-have-you.

Then you go off on side quests.

Since your brain has already determined you won’t be stopping unless forced, it tries to steer you in a new direction. A fun direction.

Last time you got burned out—or at least one of the last times—you were working on Project Blue Quartz, and entered a short story writing contest that had nothing to do with your vision.

This most recent time you burned out, the distraction came in the form of solo RPGs, which has slightly more to do with your vision, but not by much. After finishing one that you randomly started months ago, you challenged yourself in April to create six solo RPGs before mid-May. You got to four before you hit the next phase.

Both times—every time you go off on a side quest—you have oodles of fun. Of course you do, because your side quest is usually something short or multiple short somethings, which means you’re able to make progress quickly, and that drives you to keep letting the rubber hit the road until the tires are bald and you’re driving on rims.

Then nothing feels good, and you are completely burned out.

I want to impress upon you that feeling burned out is the worst. You do not want to feel that. Stop before you get to this point, please.

• Not only does what you’re supposed to be working on not sound fun, but absolutely nothing sounds fun. Not even side quests.
• Because you think in words, progress in every area of life goes out the window. Even making a barebones to-do list in your bullet journal takes Herculean effort because you can’t think straight.
• You’re forced to take an even longer break from the WIP you should’ve been working on, which means it’s going to take you that much longer to get back into the swing of things.
• You feel disappointed and angry and annoyed with yourself for letting it happen again, to put it mildly.
• You’re despondent and grouchy, which is truly awful because you have such a beautiful (and privileged) life that is so enjoyable when your eyes and mind are open to it.

How Can You Stop Yourself From Burning Out?

I hate this question because the answer is rest more often, and I do not know how to do that yet. There is always another task on the to-do list I want to check off before bed. And I trick myself into doing more work by trying to do “creative” things, which is usually writing in a different medium. I’m using the same muscles that are already tired.

That’s cheating. That doesn’t count as rest.

I think the answer to this is mandatory hobbies outside of words in general. I’ve written a blog post on those before. Video games are my usual go-to, and I do think those work as brain breaks, but I think I’d like to refrain from using screens so much. My eyesight is bad enough as it is.

Quick list I can come back to later:

• Crochet (because we have a few of those kits still kickin’ around the house, but I would have to watch the tutorials, so can’t call that screen-free)
• Could see if Logan and I could find dancing classes to take together
• I would genuinely love to get back into jewelry-making, actually—maybe I’ll look for a kit next time I’m out
• I also have watercolor paints around here somewhere

Okay, bold new concept: I will pack each hobby’s supplies into their own tote bag. Once a week, I’ll grab a tote. I’m adding that to my office calendar and my bullet journal right now.

But to be honest…

This is going to happen again. Everyone gets burned out at some point. I can’t get mad at myself because what good is that really going to do me?

All I can do is try not to let it happen, accept when it does, and do what I can to move the feeling along.

A Few Thoughts Before I Go

It’s the tortoise and the hare (which amuses me because you would never catch me in a footrace). Starting, sprinting, and stopping takes more time and energy than making progress slowly and consistently. The hare loses every time.

I also just noticed that the quotes I have on the wall in front of my desk—all of them downloaded from one of my oldest Pinterest boards and pinned or washi-taped up—are hare-like. I’m changing that right now. I have a lot of images I printed out with FreePrints a while ago that are begging to have anti-burnout, tortoise-like quotes written on them.

I have relaxed. These new quotes I’m going to think of tomorrow are going to be part of my recalibration. Realignment will follow. And my reemergence will be beautiful.