It was a few days into December 2022 when I first had an inkling that something was wrong. I had started to wind down my work. I was at a good point on my non-fiction book proposal; just one more read-through and final edit to do before I started emailing agents, and one more masterclass within The Confident Creative Club to host. The masterclass was a Christmas party, nothing strenuous, in fact, it would be fun and I’d already dug out my Father Christmas hat.
I’d decided to take part in vlogmas that year. It meant one YouTube video per day during December until the 24th. Like an advent calendar but with videos. I had thought if I’d finished all my writing and mentoring work by then that I’d be able to fully immerse myself into video making. I made it to December 8th. I didn’t understand why I ground to a halt with it. I enjoyed making simple videos. They gave me a buzz. So I listened to my body and decided okay, maybe I’d underestimated how much work vlogmas could be. I’ll dial it back.
But I was still struggling. In my writing journal on the 5th December, I wrote:
“Part of me wants to burst into tears, another wants to hide, and another wants to give up completely. After all, what’s the point?”
This mindset was not like me. For the past two years I’d been pushing my lack of confidence to the background and pulling my motivation and productivity to the foreground. I was inspired, excited, upbeat, happy…obviously, I had little dips but on the whole, it was a good time.
Okay, maybe my doctor had diagnosed me with depression back in September/October but I was fine now, wasn’t I?
Yes, alright, I know. I missed the warning signs. Even the big ones flashing in neon lights above my head.
I took action by cancelling the remaining pre-Christmas live writing sessions within the Club. Then went out to get my nails done and to ‘relax’.
Which is when the neon sign turned into something else. “If you’re going to keep ignoring the gentler signs,” the universe said to me. “We are going to step it up a gear.”
And that’s when, whilst getting my nails buffed and polished, my body completely rebelled and I threw up.
Don’t panic, it wasn’t all over my beautician-turned-friend, Michelle. Fortunately, I made it to the toilet in time. And I cried. As I looked in the mirror above the toilet, whilst still hunched over, self-pitying tears silently coursed down my cheeks.
Just prior to throwing up I was telling Michelle about my plans for the Club masterclass that evening. I cleaned myself up, came back to my seat and looked at Michelle. “I think I should cancel tonight’s class,” I said to her.
“I think that would be wise,” she replied.
Feeling rather guilty I sent the cancellation email out. And felt my shoulders relax a little. Then I got on with Christmas and tried to put writing and mentoring out of my mind.
My favourite part of Christmas is ‘twixmas’. The bit between Christmas and New Year. The pressure of the Big Day is done and relatives have gone home. Now I just get to chill by the fire with books, chocolate and the remote.
Normally I start getting excited for the new year and set my writing goals around the 30th. The day came and went and I didn’t feel ready. In fact, my favourite time of the year felt too short. The new year rolled in - I still didn’t feel excited.
In fact, I felt drained. Depleted. My head, usually pumping with ideas, felt empty. There was nothing in there. Not even tumbleweed.
I didn’t know I was suffering from burnout back then but, with hindsight, I can see I had the symptoms.
Feeling tired and drained I’d put down to the end of the year and Christmas. I was not only tired though, I also felt defeated. The thing is when you are absolutely at your mental worst in terms of tiredness the old negative mindset issues come creeping back in. They’re a bit timid at first, but they see this big empty head with nothing inside it and get bolder. Pretty soon they’ve invited all their friends: self-doubt, comparison, procrastination, failure, fear and lots more and they’re having a full-on party. The music is loud, the drinks are flowing and they are multiplying.
What was the point of doing what I had been doing? 2023 started with me feeling like an utter failure. I couldn’t write. I couldn’t even journal. I was tearful most of the time, I had no energy, no zest or sparkle. Looking back over the course of 2022 I couldn’t see what I’d achieved. Nothing, I told myself. You’ve had another failure of a year.