The Sprain of Stuck: To the Overextended

Every weekend, like clockwork, I take my laptop to a local café, open it up, and begin typing out my blog - Sex and the City style. A modern-day Carrie Bradshaw in a much smaller city, with far less expensive shoes. Each weekend, a new topic seems to spill forth onto the blank white space in front of me. But this week? Nothing. My mind had no direction. I felt stuck.

Not just creatively - physically, mentally, emotionally. I felt stunted.

That feeling of “stuck” creeps in more often than we like to admit, doesn’t it? The absence of direction, intention, purpose, meaning… you can drown in that shit. Tread water long enough without progress, and panic creeps in. Then hopelessness. Then fatigue. Burnout is what happens when we don’t stop treading - when we feel like no help is on the way. Operating in that space long enough? It’s brutal.

I like to think I’m an all-star mental health athlete. But at the end of the day, I’m human. I experience the same uphill slog as everyone else. I might be well-versed in personal development literature and practices, but I’m still up against myself - putting life (family, career, endless responsibilities) ahead of my own wants and needs. I give myself the leftovers. It’s not heroic. It’s not sexy. But through generational conditioning, it’s become my MO.

I overthink. I overwork. I chase perfection - no...I demand it.

A few months ago, I had a self-tape audition. The scene had multiple characters, but I only had one reader. So I recruited a well-known ACTRA actor friend of my husband’s - someone who’s been on television and in feature films for decades. A generous mentor. He dropped everything to help me meet the deadline.

We did four takes. Then he gave me a redirect that changed the entire mood of the scene. I adjusted, did another take. And another. By the fifth, he said, “I think that one was solid. Why don’t we wrap it there?”

Wrap. It. There.

I froze. I wasn’t good enough. I hadn’t reached what I knew I could. I had more in me. But I wrapped. Was the performance well done? Yes. Did I feel it was my best? No. But had he not asked to stop, I would’ve kept going - and going - to exhaustion.

At work, I’m no better. Early mornings. No breaks. Late departures - unless I’m on school pickup duty, where lateness isn’t an option. I push hard until my mind gives out and my body aches.

Stuck doesn’t come from a healthy state of mind. It’s a sprain. A mental injury from overuse. It’s the mind saying, “I need a goddamn minute.”

There are two parts of our bodies we rarely give rest to: our stomachs and our minds. And both are linked to the brain. You will never feel in flow when your body is exhausted. You will never feel creative when you’re running on reserves.

There’s a reason people who practice intermittent fasting say their brain fog lifts. There’s a reason we feel irritable, anxious, and creatively blocked when we’ve been pulling all the stops to please everyone around us. We’re walking on a sprain - an interruption in our ease - begging us to stop. To rest. To cease spreading ourselves thin.

Stuck isn’t a warning sign. It’s the cliff edge.

If you feel stuck - rest.

Rest isn’t failure. It’s parking yourself at the fuel pump and recharging - like a Tesla. You can try filling up with every distraction you mislabel as fuel, but ultimately, you’re an electric vehicle without a gas tank. You need specific fuel. And that fuel is rest.

Not the kind that comes from scrolling social media, watching the news, or listening to another podcast that makes you digest more. I mean turning off. Dimming the lights. Disrupting the pace of everyday life - not just on weekends. Daily.

I noticed that waking up earlier - 5am instead of 7 - gave me space. I made myself a fresh cuppa. I chose to watch something nourishing, like a sermon with a positive message, instead of the news or a binge-worthy show. I listened to classical music on my way to work instead of pumped-up tunes that made my heartbeat race (did you know your heart tries to match the tempo?).

Stuck can be undone. Easily. Within days - if we allow it.

But it means saying no to more. It means choosing to pour before consuming. To drain before filling.

Do you get what I mean?

Cheers to those of you in a moment of stuck. May you re-assess how much you’re giving and taking in - so you can find the mix that’s healthy for you. Your creativity, your flow, and your heart will thank you.

Over & Out,  

Your fellow human being.