#so i decided to take a break bc it may be a sign of burnout

[angelfevr]

funnily enough, i havent worked on angelus custos for three months so have a Very late snippet!!! teehee ^_^

[nakanotamu]

The read more is just bc I'm thinking out loud about wrestling stuff that's been on my mind/bothering me and I figure this might end up being long edit nvm it ended being about the usual depression stuff too lol

I think part of my issue as far as burnout is that I can't figure out where the line is supposed to be for work that you want to be done that no one else will do vs when you do not want to do the work any more. Like I do a lot of stats tracking for wrestling shows that I've done for a while now purely bc I had a lot of fun doing it and found it interesting. But I've sort of reached a point with it where I don't really think I'm learning anything particularly new or interesting with it but I realized it is taking a fair bit of time, so while it's hard to break the habit of doing it for every show it makes sense to drop it at this point, or at least cut back.

Then there's the stuff I actually worked on, like translations primarily and stuff like that. I'm behind back to stuff that happened in May, and I'd been thinking of it as a backlog, but just deciding to not do any of it does have an appeal. If it sucks hit da bricks. I know I have no real obligation here, but I don't know, thinking about totally dropping this stuff does hurt. On the one hand, I was genuinely very desperate to try and find some way to turn some part of this into actual paid work, to the point where I did way too much of it on top of my actual job and life and the stuff I wish I did have the option of just dropping and ended up having a pretty bad breakdown. So just not working on it at all any more is depressing, an acceptance that I failed and I'm still stuck exactly where I was a little over two years ago and nothing has changed at all. Maybe even worse bc when I started I was still working from home.

On the other hand I also feel bad leaving people who genuinely enjoyed my work out in the cold. I met some really great people thanks to it and had some really good conversations and stuff. But I also kind of hated the twitter clout because it's a lot of nice words that doesn't actually count for anything or do anything, and on top of that for every person who really seemed to get where I was coming from it felt like there were 5 more who claimed to appreciate my work who didn't get it at all. And that wears me down probably more than it should.

I'm a big believer that in any sort of work like that you shouldn't do it for an audience you may or may not even have or keep, you should do it because you want to do it and if people show up for it then that's on them. But I don't really know how to put it aside when it is still something I want to do but I don't know if I can. Even just things like reading comments on my own or watching shows feel like such an unbelievable timesink and I don't know if I have the energy or the mental health to keep it up even for myself. But I don't want to give these things up either. So I'm just. Stuck suffering in both directions.

And then on top of that there's all the feelings of disconnect and isolation that I've been struggling with for quite a while now. I mean like beyond the general ones every day like the wrestling specific ones. Reading and translating comments and press conferences and everything began as a way to feel closer, I think, to the wrestling I love so much. I think part of what fucked me up so badly when Unagi left was that it made clear how much that had not happened. Sure you can see the signs of her farewell tour in hindsight, but at the time I hadn't seen it coming in the slightest. No matter how well I understood these characters, no matter how much, even correct, insight I had into every word choice they made and every emotional beat of every story they told, I still don't know them, I'm not a part of this.

And beyond that, would I even want a part of it if I could have one? If I had some sort of magic golden opportunity to be part of the joshi scene right now, would I even want to see behind the curtain? What if I really am just a delusional himejoshi and it ruins everything I love about it? Would there even be a space for me there, what if I were just rejected? None of which matters because I still have no connection to it in the slightest, I've never even been to Japan and my current savings are supposed to be for computer upgrades so who the fuck knows when even that much might be an option.

I just. I feel so lost, and stuck. I don't know what to drop and what to keep working on but I don't know how to keep working on any of it in the first place. I can barely even make it through a single match without getting endlessly distracted these days, even when I WANT to watch it, even when I'm actively enjoying it! I want to drop everything in my entire life except for this but this also takes energy I don't have and feels like the only thing I actually can drop. This thing I love so much and have no attachment to whatsoever, that might not even want me if that was an option to begin with. I need to change something about my habits or my workflow or my life or something, anything, and I can't. I can't do any of it

[jowritesthingss]

a moment of relief

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairing(s): Loceit (Logan | Logic + Janus | Deceit), romantic or platonic

Rating: Teen (for some swearing)

Content Warning(s): unhealthy hyperfocusing, burnout, sickness, mild swearing, potentially dissociation?? (Lo kinda experiences it bc exhaustion, although he doesn’t put a name to it)

Length: 2,243 words

Brief Summary: Logan is hot. Janus is not.

TS Masterlist + AO3 Links

*

It is hot in Logan’s room.

Blisteringly hot. Unbearingly hot. Unshakingly hot.

It’s the type of hot that slaps you on the face on a bright summer day. The type of burning hot that causes relentless sweatstains and heatstrokes, the type of sweltering heat that beckons for you to tear off your shirt like a buffoon. Normally Logan would not attribute such comparisons to something, but he has been working for so long that he is no longer certain that his brain actually works at all.

He has been working hard all day, all night, and all day again, with barely any breaks for dinner with the others, and none whatsoever to get any rest. Perhaps that is the reason why his thoughts feel like they are swimming through dense lava within the confines of his brain. Perhaps that is why he finds his tongue loosening, muttering aimless literary devices and frilly confessions aloud to himself that he would not typically be “caught dead” saying.

Perhaps that is why Logan can feel the incinerating effects of burnout licking all around the edges of his weary, frenzied figure.

And perhaps he should have caught on earlier—he usually does, and acts accordingly—but Thomas, bored to tears during quarantine, finally decided to listen to his endless requests that they take an online class or two (or ten). He can’t help it if, in his overenthusiastic hyperfocus, he tried to complete an entire month’s worth of coursework in the span of two days, can he?

A thudding sound interrupts the incessant scratching of his pen on paper. He barely pauses to look up and figure out the source of the sound. The door. Someone is knocking on his door.

Logan intends to shout at them to go away, that he is busy, but his tongue trips over itself, and an incoherent stream of babble makes its way out instead.

The knocking sound falls silent, and there is no response from whoever is on the other side of the door. They must have left. That is what Patton did, when he came to inquire about Logan missing breakfast that first day, and he hasn’t come back since. The same had been true when Roman banged on his door, whining about some simplistic problem in the Imagination, and for Virgil, who had quietly tapped on the door for some unknown reason at what Logan thought was two in the morning (or was it four? time always seemed to blur together that early in the morning, especially when he was figuratively “on a roll” like this).

Honestly, by now the others should know not to bother him when he’s like this. They so, so rarely listen to him, but! Thomas is listening to him now! Thomas is taking classes again now! He is learning more now! Logan must do his absolute best to ensure maximum learning potential is reached. He must do as much work as he can. He must, he must, he must.

“Well, isn’t this a delightful sight to see,” a voice drawls from behind Logan.

Logan whirls around in his seat, surprised, his fist clenching and snapping his pen in two. Dark blue ink cascades over his fingers, but he absent-mindedly wipes it off on a corner of his already-stained black polo, eyes narrowing behind his glasses as he glares at whoever it is that dares interrupt his study session.

He squints around his bedroom, frowning at the somewhat...muted quality of it all, as if someone had slapped one of Roman’s ridiculous Instagram filters over it all. Is the blurriness caused by his eyesight failing, or is there a haze throughout the entirety of his room?

There, standing in the doorway of his now-grainy room, is someone dressed in all black, with a dash of yellow around the corners. A mismatched pair of eyes stares faux-casually at Logan where he sits at his desk.

Logan opens his mouth to speak. It takes him a few tries to get the wrods rout wight. “Ah, Janus.” He reaches to push his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, misses, pokes his forehead instead. He tries again and hits the left lens, but pushing that adequately situates the glasses further up on his nose, so aside from the smudged inky blue fingerprint now on the glass, he deems the result satisfactory.

“I must say, Logan, you’re looking quite well-rested,” Janus purrs.

Logan looks up at him, woozy. Janus...he...snake. Deceit. The backwards thing. The lie thing. Correct? “That....” He moistens his lips. Everything is so hot and dry and scratchy. He should ask Roman to snap him some chapstick after...after all this. “False...hood?”

Janus rolls his eyes. Watching his slitted, snakelike eye do that is surprisingly intriguing. Logan could—what is the phrase? He could figuratively get “lost” in that eye—in either of Janus’ eyes, really. All of the sides have the same eyes, but nevertheless, they’re just so fascinating on Janus.

Janus strides into the room, shutting the door behind him. Logan really should tell him to leave, but his tongue is too big in his mouth.

“Now, is there any particular reason you decided to experiment on sleep deprivation using yourself as a test subject?” Janus asks him, penetrating Logan with that intense gaze of his. Maybe it’s just the state he’s in, but gosh, Logan really likes that intense gaze. He wishes it would stay trained on him more often.

“The others are not worried in the least,” Janus says offhandedly. “You missed breakfast and lunch, and you turned them all away, so they sent me to...take care of you.” His expression is...Logan would dare to say it’s almost...lascivious. Dear lord, Logan hopes he doesn’t make that face around the others. They would melt. Is Logan melting?

“I am hot,” Logan abruptly announces.

Janus’ eyes dart down, running leisurely from Logan’s untied shoes up to his half-tucked-in shirt to mussed-up hair. Logan supposes he should feel embarrassed over his unkempt appearance, but the haze hovering in his room seems to have permeated his brain as well. Any embarrassment (or any other...feelings he should have, for that matter) seem strangely distant.

Janus looks Logan in the eye, heterochromatic brown and yellow matched with glazed brown. His forked tongue slithers out of his mouth, licking his lips, and for some reason Logan feels himself shudder at the sight. “Yes, you are hot.”

“I...that is what I just stated, yes.” Logan blinks owlishly at the snake-like side.

Wait.

Snake-like.

Snakes are cold-blooded. Cold. Cool.

Is Janus cold-blooded?

Well. There is only one way to find out isn’t there.

(Perhaps there are other ways, such as, just maybe, actually asking him, as Logan will later reflect. But in his current state of foggy disarray he can think of only one action moving forward.)

At some point he must have stood up. Logan doesn’t really remember. He makes use of this newfound state of existence, though, and he moves forward on rubbery legs. He crowds himself into Janus’ space, staring intently into the other side’s slitted yellow eye.

“Uh,” he hears Janus stammer. “This is a very, um, normal position. This isn’t strange at all.”

Logan raises his right hand, cupping the scaled side of Janus’ face with a sweaty palm.

The sweet soothing relief of something cool touching him is instantaneous. “Oh,” he mumbles, leaning still closer. “You...your skin is cool.”

“Of—of course. It’s not like I’m a cold-blooded snake or anything,” Janus chokes out, his expression extremely odd as he gapes at Logan.

“’s nice,” Logan assures him, mentally shoving away the instinct to collapse in the other side’s arms. He brings his other hand to cup the more human side of Janus’ face, pleased to find it alleviates the burning in his palms equally well.

Janus carefully pushes Logan an arm’s length away, and Logan fights the urge to whine at the loss of contact. Janus’ closely-guarded expression is as incinerating as Logan’s nerve endings feel—that is to say, very. However heated his expression may be, though, Janus’ skin is so nice and soft and cold, and Logan wants, but he mustn’t, he mustn’t—

Only...why has he been fighting that instinct, anyway? It sounds like such a nice idea....

Logan collapses forward onto the other side.

He feels Janus hastily throw up his arms, struggling to support the deadweight that is now Logan. A muted part of his brain supposes that this is not a good sign, but he is too overwhelmed by his senses screaming Janus, Janus, safe, cool, comfortable, sleep.

“Um—Logan—” A voice rumbles near his ear, his name absorbing through the heated skin of his neck. “Shit, you’re—heavy—uh.”

Through his rapidly tunnelling sense of self, Logan feels the cool surface he is resting on stagger, then he is being deposited on something soft. Something warm. And his source of cold has disappeared.

Quick, quiet footsteps echo through his ears, then the sound of a door opening and shutting.

A pathetic whine works its way out of Logan’s half-open mouth.

Time passes. He doesn’t know how much. All he knows is that his body is too leaden to move. The blood in his extremities is molten like magma, shimmering red underneath the surface. His head feels like it is about to erupt.

He cannot move, cannot drag himself off of the squishywarmhothothot surface he lies on, but he cannot sleep where he is, so scratchy and blazing and burning and uncomfortable.

Logan vaguely becomes aware of tears, slipping trails down his face, but they provide little relief, for they are just as salty and warm as the rest of himself is.

Eventually, the sound of a door opening and shutting crashes through his brain. He winces, trying to draw his hands up to cover his poor ears—but he’s not entirely sure if they actually make it up there or not. He’s not so sure he can control anything he does anymore.

Soft footsteps patter ever nearer, cutting through the crunchingscraping white noise of his head, and then two cool hands are gently re-positioning his body. A third hand delicately removes his glasses, a fourth rests itself against his cheek in an oddly familiar motion, a fifth and a sixth carefully place something on his forehead—something soft and—and cold.

Logan’s breath stutters out in a hiss, his eyelashes fluttering. Cool. Good. Feels good. Feels very nice. Very good.

“I’m sure it does,” a soft voice murmurs. “Here—drink.”

A pair of the arms gently hoists Logan up, leaning him against a pleasantly cool something—someone? A glass is pressed to his lips.

Grateful, Logan drinks.

The water is sweet and refreshing as it trickles down his throat, calming the raging of the rest of his body. He feels the closest to lucid that he has been in...in hours, at least. Possibly days. He isn’t exactly sure what time even is anymore, what it even means. It’s all made up anyways.

Logan’s eyes flutter open for a moment, but he sees nothing. At some point the lights must have been turned off, and his glasses are off.

Taking another gulp of the water, a corner of Logan’s mind notices an almost chalky aftertaste. Medicine, hopefully, something to help this fevered state. Remus has since learnt that the sides cannot be killed via poison, and if the person helping him is Roman, Logan doubts he would want to repeat the paint water incident of 2016.

Surely it must be medicine, for not long after he finishes drinking the water his brain starts to feel fuzzier once more.

Logan sags down, and whoever he leans against lets him. They—was—is it Janus? It has to be, he’s cool against Logan’s feverish skin, so deliciously cool and he’s always been so, so nice and pretty too—Janus carefully extricates himself from Logan’s weary body.

“N...no,” Logan moans, feeling his most welcome source of chill disappear away from him. He thinks he might reach out, grabbing for it again, but he feels nothing. “Come...come back. Please.”

A long, resigned sigh sounds from above where Logan lies. “Fine, fine,” the voice mutters. The phrasing makes it sound as though the words ought be said more reluctantly, but the tone of the voice saying it sounds more concerned and fond than anything else.

The surface Logan is lying on dips slightly—his bed, it must be his bed—and a cool body slides in behind him, wrapping pairs of arms securely around Logan’s waist, his chest, his neck. Were Logan coherent enough, the arms might feel suffocating, but as it is, their firm grip and the low temperature radiating off of them are strangely comforting.

“Logan.” A cooling breath of air blows into the back of his neck, and he squirms half-heartedly, loving the chill of it against his skin and love-hating the vague heat it curdles in his stomach.

In the morning they will wake, and they will discuss. Janus will turn the tables and lecture Logan about overworking himself. Logan will surprisingly discuss feelings—namely, that warmth in his stomach that lingers even as his fever dissipates. But that is for the morning.

For the moment, there is just the two of them and the now-receding, almost pleasant haze of Logan’s room and mind, just the two of them and their breaths huffing out as Janus whispers, “Sleep.”

Logan sleeps.

Fin

*

I’m not usually on the “Janus has six arms send tweet” train bc I’m more apt to believe it’s simply a visual effect Remus/the team used in that particular musical sequence, BUT I am jumping aboard for just this one-stop fic bc that means more hug for our poor boi Logan here. And our poor boi Logan here needs more hug.

Also uhhhhh...this is the very first Sanders Sides fic I’m posting, so plz be kind lol. Of course if you have any critiques I’d love to hear them too! ^^ Also, if there are any typos, let me know, cuz I have no friends and my stuff is almost always unbeta-ed. :P

Want to be added onto any of my taglists? Shoot me an ask or a message here or via my other social media!

[ohmydcrling]

hi, sorry to disturb you, but can you tell me where the office for bae “baby” bong-cha  is? y’know, she’s the 26 year old client here at Masters? kinda’ looks like lee sungkyung if you squint? one of the guys over at I.T. said she is vibrant and gregarious but sheltered and shallow, does that ring a bell? i have her coffee order right here.

name: bong-cha bae fc: lee sungkyung pronouns: she/her age: twenty-six sexuality: ??? degree: n/a  occupation: actress & model

pinterest

↳  positive/negative traits

+ vibrant, gregarious -  sheltered, shallow

↳  likes/dislikes

+ pandas, pink, poppies, parasols  -  busts, bagels, bottled water, beets

↳  other

birthday: may 3rd

sun sign: taurus 

inspiration: mary-kate and ashley olsen, shirley temple, lindsey lohan, baby june, raven symone, dakota fanning

on the screen before she could walk, talk, or even hold her own bottle, bong-cha grew up as a television superstar along with her twin brother (to be named? to be filled? HM!). 

second generation, her parents moved from south korea to the states to pursue american show business, but unlike their children bong-cha’s parents had trouble finding the same quality of work in los angeles as they did before they’d moved. so when bong-cha and her twin brother proved popular, they put a lot of work into sensationalizing them so that the whole family could benefit from their popularity. 

in the middle of all the fame, she claimed the stage name baby, after a recommendation from her parents and her agent.

VHS movies, fan club cruises, clothing lines, television series, and blockbuster movies centering around the dynamic child duo blazed across the united states and lifted them onto the perfect pedestal meant for a huge empire.

they were the faces of every kid’s lunchbox, the child detectives to solve the mysteries of their ghost-written book series, and the protagonists of famous and staple coming of age movies.

bong-cha’s brother decided he was done with it after finishing high school, enrolling into college and slipping under the radar to get an education. bong-cha on the other hand was still passionate about acting. after he left she suffered not having her obligatory plus one. 

baby moved to south korea to pursue projects there, taking part in k-dramas and reveling in the new spotlight she’d acquired doing more lead roles that didn’t bank on having her brother as a counterpart. she received agency and independence, and it felt stupid to complain about being popular, but she was in so many projects that she began to burnout. 

after taking a year-long break, she moved to new york city, where she was interested in getting back into the american media scene that had given her her initial success. she wanted to be in more serious and artistically inclined projects and be seen for someone that wasn’t just a washed-up actress trying to make it without her brother. because she knew she wasn’t. baby can sing, she can dance, she’s multilingual, she can play the piano, and she knew if she weren’t talented her career wouldn’t have flourished in south korea. it was all the proof she needed that she just needed her own identity.

baby came to masters in search of rekindling her passion for acting as an art, and since masters is the best international management company in the world... 

outside of her career: 

although kind and well-meaning, baby is clueless about what life would be like without her privilege. she’s the type to hand someone a wad of cash without thinking about whether they might find it insulting.

she’ll smile at anyone that looks at her for a moment too long, and she does stop to take photos with fans even if her bodyguard hates when she does it. 

she’ll use her award-winning smile to get herself and anyone else out of trouble. 

she WILL pout to get whatever she wants and she has no qualms about throwing a tantrum to do so, either. sometimes baby is too accurate a stage name. thankfully, it’s hardly used for evil.

her favorite pastime is playing the piano. catch her playing chopin on her off days. 

she’s a little confused but she’s got the spirit, you know? 

very very supportive, will help you achieve your dreams by using her money or her connections without complaint or much thought. she’ll vouch for you without thought until you prove to her you don’t deserve it. is the type to withhold love and affection when done dirty. 

wanted connections: 

a gf or ex(no gender preference) that is/was using her for her money

a lost or missed connection she lost touch with who used to be thick as thieves with her

an old PR romance that either turned sour or ended bc the contract did 

or we can brainstorm together !!

[moma-jo]

Handmade

Ships from a small business in

Read the full description

Height: 8.5 inches

Width: 11 inches

Canada

Materials: laser ink, 3mil thermal laminating paper, card stock, white legal paper, 8 and half by 11, 8 and half by 14, 11x17, prints or placemats

Description

8.5” x 11” on card stock 8.5” x 14” on white legal paper. Option: laminating, you can now have : 8.5” x 11” (3 mil. laminated 9” x 11.5”) or 8.5” x 14” (3 mil. laminated 9” x 14.5”) ***I also have a few 13” x 17” sheets as well, if you want two pictures side by side or 4 pictures of 8.5”x11” . please be sure you are picking the right choice. Pick the colors then decide how you want them laid out. there is a personalize section. Please use it to tell me the colors you chose for your arrangement. I will send you an email before I laminate to verify with the pictures in place. Please make sure you choose your colors and tell me in the personalized section, and we can email back and forth to make sure you are getting what you want. Description: I used to work for Welcome Wagon Ltd. as the Business Professional Representative and Community Ambassador for the Lower Mainland, here in BC Canada. I welcomed those who were new to the community and needed a welcome into the community. One day on a welcome visit to a Home-Based Business, I met with an incredible woman at a Timmy's in Aldergrove. The lady had a massage therapy company and she commented to me that she was blessed with “healing hands”; and she should help me with my back problems someday…… She worked out of her van, so she would come to you with her tools and experience. She was also a naturalist and loved to bring light into people's lives, ergo the sun and flower. I know she brought a lot of light into my life. I was interested in her way of looking at life and circumstance. She was a spiritualist and saw people's auras; and that is why you see the shimmering on this picture with the different colors of auras. It inspired me to make this print. She was so full of life; the reason for the fire. I needed to grasp her energy and find presence in its meaning. That night, I spent until the wee hours of the morning drawing the different aspects of this lady’s life into this scene. I got the inspiration-bee. I felt like I met an angel that day; and that is why this piece has wings. If you want your print to be laminated, that can be done at a minimal extra cost. I was thinking this picture could become an awesome placemat, so if you choose to laminate them, every 4th picture and its lamination for that picture is FREE. And if you choose to put the picture into my picture frames that I sell in my “jusTAknacCraftsnSupplies” category, you will now have even more options of plain or laminated on the frame as well…., with the bonus of trimmed through crochet in the color of the aura you choose. LAMINATION can even be double sided as well; with the same or different colors of prints…the mix and matching is limitless. 10 AURA COLORS AND THEIR MEANINGS: Each of the seven chakras is associated with a color, so understanding chakra colors helps when deciphering auras. When you see a specific color, it means your chakra for that color is stable and unblocked. Red relates to the root chakra. This means you are likely an energetic and fiery person, which indicates someone who is "quick at putting thoughts into actions" or "doesn't read instruction manuals." Orange can relate to the sacral chakra of creativity and sexual energy, which indicates flowing creative energy. This might mean you "tend to learn lessons from experience rather than theory" and "often have to learn things the hard way." Yellow relates to the solar plexus chakra as a good sign that you are feeling confident and empowered as it represents your identity and confidence. It signifies someone who is sunny and charismatic; with a magnetic personality that attracts lots of different people. Green is associated with the heart chakra, relating to matters of the heart. You will love for yourself and others through compassion and forgiveness. You probably love music, nature, and not being tied down. With an open heart, you may also tend to be easily influenced by one's environment or other people. Making boundaries are important to you. Pink is also associated with the heart chakra. You wear your heart on your sleeve visible for all to see. You are kind, caring, and loving People will say you are open and receptive. Just a note here though you can celebrate your kind and compassionate nature but remember that you also need to keep boundaries. Blue is the color of the throat chakra. It is a sign of having a powerful mind—but one that might be a bit in the clouds, you might over think things a little bit. You are operating in the mental realms and need to keep focused on being grounded more than others to stay on top of your game. This allows you to be see beyond what is there and be insightful. in the olden days you would be called a Prophet that governed expression and truth. Purple is the color of the third-eye chakra, which deals with intuition and sensitivity, and great mental depths. You might even have some psychic, empathic, or intuitive abilities. White is connected to the crown chakra, which connects us to universal energy and oneness. It is rare to see concentrations of white in one's aura. But if you do, it is the sign of a very quick mind—and a tendency for perfectionism and nervous energy. (OCD). If you see it in your aura; it would mean you have a strong sense of connection to something larger than yourself. if there are black or particularly dark areas of your aura, this is not actually the "color" of your aura, but somewhat a sign that part of you is exhausted or fatigued and needing a break from being used by others. You need to take some time to ground, heal, and balance your energy levels to brighten up that aura a bit, and bring your energetic field (and chakras) back into balance. Rainbow On the slight chance that you have a rainbow aura that displays more than two colors, it is a sign that you are going through a super busy period or are in the midst of a change. You might feel particularly energized and confident when your aura is giving off rainbow vibes. You want to get out and meet new people and do new things. Be careful though, it can lead to burnout and be overwhelmed, so be sure to make time for relaxation too. I hope this helps when choosing the colors, you want. always moma jo

[concerningwolves]

Creative Block or Burnout?

A guide featuring crappy homemade graphics bc I had too much free time.

So I recently learned that there is a difference between a creative block and a creative burnout - and that although they feel similar, they’re “cured” in different ways. This knowledge is helpful to anyone who creates, but particularly so for those who rely on their creativity to put food on the table and pay the bills.

  What’s the Difference?

A creative block is usually linked to a lack of inspiration, while a creative burnout is a loss of motivation. 

If you’re struggling with a creative block then you’re probably familiar with this: you sit down to make something, like a piece of art, and realise that you have absolutely no idea what to do. You sit there staring at the ceiling wondering why your muse has decided to take an unplanned holiday (and probably planning to work it twice as hard when it comes back).

With a creative burnout, however, the scenario might go more like this: you’ve been working consistently for a while, maybe a few days or weeks. You and your muse are on amicable terms and it’s all going smoothly - until it isn’t. The inspiration is still there, but your desire to do the Thing is gone. You’re tired and stressed, and your muse is starting to really consider that holiday.

From experience (oh painful teacher) I’ve learned that often, one can lead to the other. If you’re burned out for long enough and then try to push yourself again, the result can be a lack of inspiration. If you have no inspiration, you’ll eventually burn through all of the motivation to try.

  Identifying the Problem

If you’re struggling to get on with your usual creative activities - be it designing, drawing, writing, dancing etc - then consider which column from the table below most applies to you.

These are rather general descriptors and each list is in no way exhaustive. I’ve based them off of my personal experiences and what I’ve heard from others. Only some might apply to you - or there may even be other signs that are completely unique to you! The important thing is that you teach yourself to recognise whether you’ve burnt yourself out or you have a creative block and develop strategies to prevent it/deal with it in the future.

  So, how do you deal with the problem?

Here’s where identifying which one you’re struggling with is very important.

For a creative burnout you need to step back and allow yourself a break. I generally recommend only taking a break from the key source of stress and NOT from creativity in general. 

Find out what helps you to replenish your energy and reward yourself for all the hard work you’ve put in up to this point. This could be something like a spa day, some therapy retail in a clearance warehouse, a piece of chocolate cake or just lying on the floor outside. Whatever works for you! I personally love to cook or experiment with home-brew teas.

I would also suggest that you avoid binge-watching TV. It’s so easy to just sink into a fugue when you do that, because your already-tired brain is taking the opportunity to fall asleep even more. That’s not to say you can’t watch an episode or two, but make sure you exercise some sort of self-restraint.

For a creative block, long breaks can make the problem worse.  Most creative activities rely on there being some sort of habit in place to sustain them, and a creative block is like a load of motivation being dammed up by a big ole lack of inspiration. What you need to do is dismantle that dam bit by bit, until you can get the motivation flowing seamlessly into inspiration.

For both, it’s important to just have fun! If something pressures you, then step away until you have more energy to deal with it.

Further Reading

Getting out of a writing rut - an ask covering dialogue problems, perfectionism and connecting to characters.

Dealing With Writer’s Block and Focus Troubles - what the title says.

Self-Care While Writing - (and doing anything else creative)