Motavating myself to be creative

I don’t get it. I can run every Monday through Friday with no problem. I can go to work on time. I can get all of my meals prepared and chores done.

So why is it so hard to find the motivation to do something creatively?

Sometimes I try to make it a habit, but then nothing comes out. Its like I have the paint brush in my hand or my fingers over the keyboard, but I find myself stumped somehow. What is the formula for doing this consistently?

Maybe I need to just go home, mediate, put my phone away, light some candles and listen to a recording of water running quietly.

I think I’m just so used to my life being chaos that I’ve forgotten how to be still and focus. I think I need to be more aware of the distractions I put in front of myself so I don’t have to do anything productive. My phone is almost never away from me and I think that’s becoming a big problem. There’s just so much on that one small device that could keep me busy for a long time. Surprisingly, my lap top isn’t as much as a distraction as my phone. However, I’ve used it to stall things I could be doing multiple times.

I’m hoping by just putting my phone away, I’ll have a much better chance of improving upon myself, but we’ll see.


I’ve been working on revising this blog on and off. It’s been hard since there’s so much I want to do -and so little time. Right now, anxiety keeps me awake. And social media has become something deadly. I’ve cut out a lot of people in my life for the sake of my sanity. And social media convinced me to go back and think about how things went wrong. It’s been hard to find new friends and get my life together, despite doing better then some of the people my age.

But in some ways it’s worth it. I look back and think I never want to be like the friends I used to have. Friends that couldn’t be open, friends that would go on to have there parents pay for everything while I worked full time, friends that I couldn’t trust cause I knew deep down most of them were just as judgmental as I was.

I wish so badly to go back and save myself from my family. To teach myself to go after my dreams instead of becoming a doormat and doing their chores. To encourage myself every time they discouraged me from pursuing something.

But anxiety was a bitch and still is and sometimes it controls me and I don’t know how to stop it.

So I write.

It’s helps me to calm down a little, but I feel that tense feeling still there. Reminding me this will only help until I start to have other thoughts.