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jamesp420

Creativity as Addiction

Nail-biting. Overeating. Alcoholism. Drug abuse.

 

Disorders that feel so good when one buckles under to those compulsive urges. Habits that bring on a transient euphoria, only to be followed by crushing despair, self-loathing and the erosion of health and well-being.

 

Just like creativity.

 

Confused? Let me explain.

 

Creativity is not some conscious decision you casually plan out as if it were part of a do-to list, some errand or task to complete like laundry or mowing the lawn. The act of creating art in any form is a condition, a syndrome, an urgency that overrides otherwise sensible, constructive impulses. When submitting to it, you are overcome with a rush of endorphins—the runner’s high of the artist. The moment you unplug from your creation, when you realize you are alone with yourself and something that bears no weight, substance or function on its own, you fall to despondency and an aching worthlessness.

 

Just like other addictions, seeing the success of others while you wallow in the lack of yours just drives you deeper into your addiction. Sadly, each new hit you take of your drug offers a little less escape, a reduction of pleasure and fulfillment. Meanwhile, you find yourself ever more isolated and alone as you progressively moving further away from others.

 

When someone says that you should just feel good about creating something—a piece of music or a or a novel or painting— their statement reverberates with the hollow ring of the achievement. The only thing the artist can think is, “It hurts so damn bad to be ignored.”

 

It’s amazing to me how few people understand that the artist does not create for themselves. The artist is at the mercy of themselves and the limits of their talent (or lack thereof). They create not because it brings them joy, but because they aren’t able to NOT create, even though every day of creation whittles away at their health and sanity. They create so that others can experience it.

 

If successful, an artists’ audience becomes their methadone—though still craving the addiction of attention, they subsist through the attention they receive. Without the attention, the artist simply experiences greater and greater withdrawal, leading to a deeper need to fulfill the craving, which drives them deeper into their habit and the slow ticking away of their life.

 

When confronting a creative soul who is clearly struggling, may I suggest you avoid the platitudes of placation, of telling them how amazing it is that they have done what they did. Instead, if you took time to experience their work, share your opinions honestly. Most importantly, sympathize with their plight.

 

And for God’s sake, don’t congratulate them when they are failing.

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