I am lost.
Somewhere between responsibility and a few blocks past young adulthood
I have gotten lost.
My adolescent years seem to be a thousand miles behind me
While the dreary day-to-day of eight-hour shifts are synonyms with “objects are closer than they appear”.
I had forgotten what it was like to have a carefree spirit
Laugh without shame.
I no longer feel as though the road before me is a bright one
Filled with endless possibilities.
No, my days are routine, often flying by without purpose.
I am existing.
In a land without water or rain
I am drifting.
Through tumbleweeds and dust
No longer having the energy to concoct a mirage.
The merciless sun beating down on my back, reminding me of all the things that I have lost.
No clouds to bounce between, drifting from elevated bliss to creative new heights
No wind to get caught up in, to blow me in the right direction.
And no rain.
No water to nourish my spirit and wash away the debris and confusion.
So I am left with the sun,
Stifling and suffocating
It is relentless in its efforts to remind me of…
You know, the sad part is that i can’t even get my head clear enough to write this supposed poem, let alone think about editing it. Smh. I feel like I have a creative block. Not just a mental one, but spiritually. I feel so DISCONNECTED from myself…or who I used to be. I can’t seem to find all the pieces, and the ones that I already have don’t fit.
I feel trapped in a box of duty and responsibility. I fear that I will no longer have these creative gifts of mine if I dont engage them, release this tension. But i also feel as though I can’t allow any distractions, I am a working woman now. I have bills. I can never go back to the place I was in in 2012-2013. I have to make sure I work and make money so my bills are paid, so I have food, and a place to sleep. I just can’t go back to that place.
I think I am utterly afraid. Those years were so hard for me…and I no longer have the cushion of financial aid and refunds to keep me afloat financially. And even though I work a lot and work hard, I still find myself struggling. So I am afraid. Afraid of that brokenness, that confusion, that rock bottom place. I barely had anything or anyone. And I just cannot go back. I have honestly not been able to create since then…almost three years. Graduate school, the short time I was there, did nothing to help rejuvenate this being inside of me. Still she lies dormant, locked withing a cell of her own creation.
How can I still call myself an artist when I am afraid to lift my brush?
Will I ever find that solace in art again? Will it ever make sense to me? Speak to me as it once did, all throughout my day and feed my dreams?
I haven’t written anything of substance in a while either. I have not completed a story since 2011…where has all the time gone? Where is the girl I was?
Has she been kidnapped by the woman I have become? Is she lost within her reality and no longer dreaming?
All of this is so heartbreaking and maddening! I don’t know how to find the old me, or just become someone new all together.
I just know that I have to, I can’t stay like this. This is not living.