How I discovered my creative outlet and changed my life (in my 30s)

In early 2019, my mum passed away after a long on-off battle with cancer.

My brain was fried.

I was spent.

I was done.

In the build up to mum's funeral I was on auto-pilot, just taking care of all the 'busy' things that needed doing - coordinating with funeral directors, helping the priest get to know mum, booking the church / hall / crematorium, writing the order of service, ordering the food and flowers, etc.

The intensely emotional funeral, wake and day in general gave way to a kind of nothingness.

It was strange how quickly a life dedicated to mum - her care and passing - was ceding ground to 'normality'.

I wasn't sure how I felt. I was ok... but not quite right.

I knew that to get right I'd need to reflect on what we'd been through.

In this post I'll share how my mum's passing encouraged me to learn how to explore my emotions and led me to discover my creative outlet and realise the profound positive impact it could have on my mental health and wellbeing.

Business as usual?

Initially, people around me just felt that little bit far away (could have been the hangover), then every day thoughts and considerations took hold - my gf and son, work, daily admin, etc.

By the time I was due to head home that 'day like any other' feeling jarred me.

Up to that point I had told myself and anyone who commended me for "being calm and strong" that I had already grieved for mum and made my peace with her passing. And in some ways that was true - it had been a long road. But I knew deep down it was only a half-truth.

After the journey we'd been on I knew I had 'more' to give - more thoughts / feelings / emotions / trauma / reaction. It was almost a physical sensation, like a pressure in my chest. I needed a way to exercise this untapped 'energy'.

Taking responsibility

People always say you grieve in your own time, that you just need to let time and space do their work.

But would I get that time with the tide of my regular life quickly coming back in?

And what about people who bottle up their emotions and suffer for it?

Looking back on it, I just didn't know how to be emotional.

I didn't know how to intentionally connect with and acknowledge my emotions.

It's true I hadn't given myself much time, but I saw how quickly daily life was taking over and so I figured I should do what I could to take control.

Without being able to purposefully reflect and address how I was feeling I wasn't going to be able to process and grieve.

Why not?

In preparation for mum's funeral I opened up my notebook to start a todo list. As I leafed through the pages I stumbled upon something I'd written after my aunt Pat's (mum's sister) funeral a couple of years earlier.

I recalled how I'd felt the urge to write about her funeral and my experience. Reading it back I was grateful I had, no less because I'd forgotten most of what I'd written.

I was transported back to that day. There's power in writing I thought.

"If I did the same again maybe I'd be able to figure out what's going on with me? Why not? It's not like I have any better ideas."

So I resolved to spend a little time alone with my thoughts and pen and paper as a way to get the ball rolling.

The train home

Travelling back to London from Glasgow was my opportunity to do that.

For the first time in a long while I'd be alone and have a few hours of peace and quiet to think, process, reflect and write.

Arriving at Glasgow Central Station I quickly nipped into M&S to stock up - BLT, fruit salad, honey roasted peanuts, Percy Pigs, water - and made my way to the London Euston train sat at platform 2.

I found my seat, stored my bags overhead, placed my notebook on the table, got comfortable and people-watched out the window as we pulled away.

Racing passed green fields as we cleared the city, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and thought about mum.

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

(Scenes flashing quickly by)

6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

When I opened my eyes I started writing.

"Mum's gone..."

Non-stop. I was free-writing (at least what I think of as free-writing).

Page after page (just an A5 pad) I wrote about anything and everything that came to mind without worrying about structure or convention.

• From how strange I thought it was that I wasn't feeling 'more', to the time I wouldn't get to grieve, to the day trip we took to Kew Gardens when I realised how far gone mum was, to how I'd tried to help mum by controlling the controllables of exercise and food, to how upset I was with myself for having been short with mum when I misinterpreted her requests for help with things that I felt she could do on her own as her 'giving up' and 'relinquishing control'.

A torrent.

It was liberating and (as cliche as it sounds) like a weight off. When I finished I was sombre, but also satisfyingly free of thought and tranquil.

Woah... it helped!

Writing about mum, what she meant to me and to others, wondering about her 'legacy' and how people knew her in different ways to me inspired me to create a memorial website for her. I encouraged people to share stories about how they knew mum and who she was to them.

That day on the train helped immensely and since then I've read and re-read what I wrote many times to take me back to that time, to acknowledge how I felt, to add to and expand on what I'd already written and to appreciate where I am now.

As I continued to write in subsequent sessions, I began to feel lighter and more at ease.

Even just knowing I have it in me to articulate my thoughts and feelings is a comfort in of itself.

A practice for life

This time in my life opened my eyes to the role writing could play for me as an emotional and creative outlet - I'd never felt these benefits because I'd never had one before.

Again it's cliche, but I really didn't know what I was missing.

When its potential dawned on me I felt it in my body and knew I'd stumbled upon something that could play an important role in my life.

I started to prioritise time with my notebook and have kept a personal journal ever since.

I dive into it whenever I feel the urge - to record important events, if I'm feeling high or low, if I'm confused or something's bothering me or if I have an idea I want to work through.

I write to process, to decompress, to put things into perspective, to record ideas, to prioritise, to puzzle things out, to document my feelings and what I'm thinking and doing.

My journal is a reference point I look to whenever I'm feeling lost to help bring me back to centre.

Writing is my mental and emotional exercise and has the power (if I'm disciplined about it) to play a fundamental role in supporting my mental health and wellbeing.

I no longer 'carry around' my thoughts, playing them on loop. And because I don't have to remember every little thing I feel like I have more 'space' to focus.

I always feel good for doing it. Like spending time with children, it's never time wasted.

It can be hard (my writing rarely flows freely), but something worthwhile always comes of it. Even if it's just as simple as feeling happy in myself for using my brain instead of just mindlessly watching tv or scrolling social media.

At the end of the day, if I articulate what I'm thinking then I force myself to know and acknowledge what's important to me.

And if I know what's important to me, then maybe... just maybe I'll find the courage to do something about it.

I give myself a chance.

Conclusion

My mum's passing was not unexpected or sudden.

We'd been on a long and sometimes difficult journey and after she'd gone I didn't react how I'd expected to.

There was no breakdown or outpouring of grief.

I excused myself by falsely claiming I had already mourned her loss along the way.

But I knew I wasn't right. I knew I needed to reflect on what had happened or I'd likely suffer further down the line.

But I didn't know how to go about doing that.

As if by magic, I stumbled upon something that encouraged me to start by writing about mum and what we'd been through.

The transformative impact this exercise had on me made me wonder about the ongoing role writing could potentially play for me.

I never knew I'd missed having an emotional and creative outlet.

I can say hand on heart that now all areas of my life benefit from me spending a little time with my thoughts and pen and paper.

Figuring out what's going on with me, attempting to articulate it, acknowledging its importance.

Thanks very much for taking the time to read this. Please share it if you enjoyed it.

How do you connect with your emotions? Do you have a creative outlet? If so, what is it? I'd love to know, leave it in the comments below.

Cheers!