Frustration, or How I Learned to Start Worrying and Hate Writer's/Creative Block

To say I am frustrated would be accurate but a vast understatement.

It has been almost 7 months since my lifesaving cardiac surgery, and while I have recovered quite well physically, returned to work and gained back almost 15 of the more than 40 pounds I lost, I am still showing the effects of the massive amount of surgery I underwent at the Cleveland Clinic. I was told that I would feel a post-surgical fog of sorts for up to 12 months, considering I was out of things from the anesthesia from my surgery for more than 24 hours.

When you are recovering from major surgery, you expect to be feeling its aftereffects for a while; I had to relearn how to breathe deeply so I could speak in phrases of more than a few seconds without gasping for air and to make sure I could be heard and understood; this took only a few days, but my breathing exercises to strengthen my lung capacity and endurance went on for a couple of months and a was a major part of my at-home recovery. Despite all of my resting and recovery attempts, I passed out my first day back to work in January from dehydration, but returned after only one day out and have been back to work and fine ever since. In fact, work has gone quite well, with my ability to concentrate at least as good, if not better, than before and I have taken on a bit more responsibility. To be honest, I do drink a lot more fluids and I have started taking in a bottle of Coke Zero, the only sugar-free soft drink I really like, but I drink it sparingly, taking full effect of the therapeutic properties of its caffeine.

DJing at WBNY, my apparent creative refuge

So, what is the source and cause of the above-mentioned frustration? I am still feeling fatigue from the post-surgical fog/effects of the surgery, which strike soon after I get home from work during the week. I first walk our dog, Harold, which fortunately doesn’t take too much out of me physically or mentally…or so I thought. When we get home, I have to make dinner, and lately, I am feeling rather tired but still make dinner.

NOW, I hit the major frustration; any creative activity, mainly my writing, is like a mountain to climb or marathon to run, as I am physically and mentally more tired than I was pre-surgery. I used to be kind of bad falling asleep after diner, but I am now notorious for dozing off. It is something that doctors, nurses and therapists at the Cleveland Clinic told me would happen, but I hoped it would not have such a hold on me and for so long. I have specific projects I am working on and want to work on, but I can’t seem to get through the fog, the tiredness and the reawakening of parts of my brain to accomplish them, or certainly not at any pace or quality that satisfies me. I am either getting inspiration and ideas at the more inconvenient times, such as work or when walking the dog, or I am not getting them at all or weakly.

I was fortunate to have been given a talent, an ability to write in manners that communicate with people and present concepts in cogent, convincing and entertaining manners; not everyone has certain creative talents or the ability to convey them, and writing has become inseparable from me and my identity. It was my job as a newspaper reporter and editor for more than 18 years and has been my life as a professional writer for more than 30 years. Not being able to write meaningfully, and not being able to overcome certain obstacles, even if temporary, is a real punch to the gut; even though I have taken to photography to express certain creative feelings and ideas, I feel as if I am wasting my real creative talent. It is incredibly gratifying to be and call myself a writer, and not being able to do so in any way near what I want is almost like telling me I am no longer a writer, regardless of that being true or not.

It isn’t as if I haven’t tried to get through this; I continue to write on social media, and don’t think the quality or quantity has decreased, but instead of being complementary to my writing for publications and blogging, it has virtually become my only outlet. After I got out of the hospital, I began writing about certain memorable parts of my two stays, and ended up writing thousands of words on it. Not one piece, not one word has seen the light of day, because I do not feel any of it is good enough to share; there are some things I really want to write about, including medication affected dreams and hallucinations, but I’ll be damned if I can find any words even close to expressing what I felt and saw. I discussed this and other related concerns with my incredible wife, photographer Valerie Dunne, who has been amazingly supportive and offered my several approaches and resolutions, as have other artists and creative people when I ask for advice or recommendations on this topic.

Being strong headed (to put it mildly) on my writing and related activities, advice is sometimes difficult to filter through my specific creative ability and approach. I am not the type who can or will write simply as catharsis and put it out there; I always have and probably will write something that is up to certain standards before I put it before other people, and communication with others is vital to me. I have tried to write notes or partial ideas and thoughts, but that hasn’t led to anything and it hasn’t shaken me loose from the writer’s block. I appreciate all of the support and ideas people have given me, but I hope they realize, and I’m sure most do, just how individual the creative process can be for people, not just across artistic and creative endeavors and fields, but between people in the same creative areas.

I will struggle with this creative/writer’s block until it goes away or until I stop caring about it, and I can’t ever see the latter occurring. I have suffered periods of writer’s block in the past, none this long or as frustrating, and I hope you’ll bear with me until I send away or temporarily stop, if not slay, this dragon.

Postscript: Thinking after finishing this piece, I did forget one very important and enjoyable creative route that has treated me well over this recovery, that being able to DJ at WBNY 91.3 FM at Buffalo State College. As an alumnus, I did my annual Alumni Weekend show, but what really helped me was being able to be the substitute DJ for two weeks for Robin Connell (an excellent DJ with fantastic musical taste) on her “What You Need” program. I was able to create a sound experience for two, three-hour periods thanks to Robin offering me this opportunity and with Val giving me lots of encouragement and musical suggestions. Since that occurred in May, I hope the creative boost gave me stays around a while and I would appreciate the opportunity to DJ again at WBNY, one way or another.