Creativity Is My Emotional Antibiotics

Recovering from a hospital stay

At 3am on 28th of February, a car sped through the night. My fiancé was driving, anxiously, while I was hunched over in the passenger seat with the worst pain of my life.

We got to the emergency room quickly, it was a quiet night. And so began a 9 day long hospital stay that ended in surgery.

I’m among the 10% of women with endometriosis. In my day to day, it doesn’t give me too much grief, despite being of a quite advanced variety. I do well on hormonal medication. I’m mostly pain free.

But this time, one of my endo cysts had ruptured and got infected. After ruling out appendicitis and other illnesses, I was hooked up to IV antibiotics. Things seemed to be getting better for a couple of days, and then they got worse again, and after a week, my doctors determined I needed surgery to fully remove the infection. That, thankfully, helped.

I’m not going to pretend it was an easy experience. It was scary and some days, I felt very very poorly. But in the end, things were okay, and I was sent home.

Coming home

Leaving the hospital was a surreal experience. After 9 days of IVs and blood draws and surgery, I was suddenly walking down the dairy isle of the grocery store, looking for probiotic yoghurt.

In an instant, life had become a very serious thing. On the Monday, I had taken pics of my outfit of the day, on the Wednesday, I was in the emergency room.

The first couple of days back home, I was tired and rattled, body healing, nervous system on alert, looking for signs that the infection would get worse again. But the days passed and I felt increasingly normal.

When I set my intentions for this year, I chose Delight as my word. I wrote about how I need my creativity be this light, soft presence. A counterbalance to the hard edges of life, a way to conquer the darkness. I wrote that I knew there would be difficult aspects to life this year.

I was right.

And as the bruises on my hands and wrists from all the needles slowly fade and the wounds from surgery on my belly turn into scars, I look to creativity.

Healing with creativity

Over the last years of talking to creatives, inside and outside of coaching, I’ve seen so many artists and writers lose track of the joy they once got from their creativity. Heard so many who feel that the only proper reason to create is for the external success. Seen so many stop creating for themselves.

And over the last years, I’ve also talked with so many creative friends about the power of acknowledging that our own, unpressured, joyous, just-for-myself creativity has immense importance.

Not to the world. Not to the followers. Not for skill development.
But for you.

Now that I put stickers and washi tape in my planner, I’m not ending any wars.
My cream white and pink sock knitting project won’t win any prices.
My tarot cards and journal isn’t bringing in a side-income.
My photography isn’t doing anything for climate change.
The words my fingers type out won’t cure endometriosis.

They’re the insignificant activities that make all the difference.

Because this is where I find my emotional healing. Creativity is the rope I grab hold of, that drags me out of the depths of existential dread and reminds me that life is not just survival, it’s also silly fun.

Creating is my emotional surgery and antibiotics.

A whiff of spring

The sun is shining today.

Yes, it snowed last night, but the snow has already melted.

I’ve been home a little over a week. I’ve rested. I’ve binged One Day on Netflix and got myself the type of book I rarely read - a romance novel, to soothe my frazzled nerves. As my energy have returned, I’ve played with my creativity. I’m going to work this Monday.

I feel more or less back to normal. Grateful that this experience is now shelving itself into the archives of my personal history.

The rivalry with my nemesis February is left deepened. Of course this happens the year it’s an extra long month.

But March is here now. Spring is finally in the air.