Haunted by My Creativity: A Letter from the Other Side of Rest

A soft rebellion against paralysis, perfectionism, and the noise inside my head.

Dear human,

How did you manage your intrusive thoughts this week?

I didn’t. That’s why I’m writing to you now—still a little haunted by my creativity.

Not in the horror-movie sense. More like a quiet, lingering presence.
Ideas that tap me gently on the shoulder.
Songs that hum at the back of my throat.
Stories that tug at the hem of my daydreams.
Letters I still ache to write.

This week, I felt overwhelmed.
Like my creativity had clawed its way up from under the surface, demanding to be heard.
It didn’t feel magical. It felt like noise. Restlessness. A holy frustration.

Luckily,

Hadiza’s Newsletter

shared a video right on time. You can watch it here. It helped me remember how to speak kindly to the voice in my head.

I invite you to say these words out loud with me, in gentle rebellion against the voice in your head:

“You’re not always wrong, but you’re rarely the whole story.
Your voice is loud, but it doesn’t make you true.
I hear you, I thank you, and I’ll add the parts you’ve forgotten—
like hope, softness, and the fact that I’ve survived every version of this worry before.”

Take a deep breath here.
I did too.

🌀 Reflection Prompt:
What practice helps you soothe your intrusive thoughts?
How can you build it into your life more gently and regularly?

I'd love to hear from you—how do you quiet the noise in your mind when it gets too loud?

📓 Notes from a girl haunted by her creativity

The yearning to create is calling to me like souls in a haunted house—whispering, wailing, clawing.

Zombies rising from the graves of abandoned dreams:
📜 The handwritten letters I never sent.
📚 The short stories I never wrote.
🎶 The songs stuck in voice notes and kitchen hums.

Why can’t I forget them?
Why won’t they stop calling my name?

Each page I read, every show I watch— stirs something.
But the truth is, I can’t do everything. And that hurts.

So I’m stripping things back.
Fifteen minutes. My voice. My breath.
A song just for me.

This is the 15-minute rule:
My quiet rebellion. My soft return to becoming.
A way to let go of this old version of me
and tend to the feminine flame within.

Right now, it feels like my old life is shriveling
and a new life is just starting to bloom.
And I’m caught in the ache of the in-between.

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Before we dive deeper—shoutout to Gayle for the flu remedy!
I didn’t find all the herbs, but the cold infusion of what I did find made a world of difference. 🙌🏽

This week, in addition to having a cold,
I also danced with a crowd of intrusive thoughts…

So, what is an intrusive thought?

They’re unwanted, sometimes disturbing thoughts that come out of nowhere.
They’re not always negative—but their relentlessness can cloud even the brightest day.

This week I had three:

1. I have no friends or community, and I don’t speak the language. So I probably won’t do anything creative in Barcelona.

2. I’ve wasted too much time. I’m behind on my creative goals.

3. There’s not enough time to catch up and do everything—work, school, food, friendships, life.

Textbook 20’s drama.
That messy mix of “I want to do everything at once” + “I’m so behind” + “Why am I so tired??”
It’s exhausting.

---

This week was a holi-week (school gave us the whole week off!).
I wanted it to be romantic and wild. Late-night drinks. Dancing. Spontaneity.
Instead?

• I had my first bubble tea in Barcelona. It counts.

• I watched Black Mirror with my flatmates during school hours.

• I took naps. Napping is so underrated.

• I finally met up with the first person I spoke to when I arrived here.

Truth is, I keep forgetting—I’m a cosy girly.
I don’t really go out for drinks late at night.
I spend hours reading, writing letters, or laying on the floor with my thoughts.

My holi-week was actually good.
But also chaotic.

After work, I had no energy left. And I felt terrible.
Like, “Why can I push through school when I’m exhausted, but now that I have time to create, I just crash?”
This fuelled the intrusive thoughts even more.

I tried to fix it by squeezing more tasks into my calendar.
But there wasn’t space.

Two conversations helped me push back:

Tuesday, bubble tea therapy.

Over mango-passionfruit bubble tea with a friend,
she asked why I didn’t use a music space that was open to the publi.

I said, “I have no time.”

She gently reminded me “You’re a freelancer. Why not shift your hours instead of holding on to a fixed routine?”

Boom.
We made a shifting routine on the spot—and suddenly, space for music opened up.

Sometimes you need new eyes on your old habits.
Other times, you just need permission to think differently.

That was Step 1 in fighting back.

Thursday.

Caught up with an old friend who’s also swamped with work, saving money, and still trying to make art.
We both agreed: Creativity isn’t optional for us.
It’s soul work. It’s survival.
So we need systems to protect it.

We’re both project managers. We know how to build processes.

So why not use that same skill to safeguard our art?

We also realized the desire to make things perfect—shiny, grand—was getting in the way of making anything.

And in the middle of our call, my creative self screamed:

“Write the damn song! Not the beat. Not the chords.
Nothing else. Just. Write. The. Song.”

She was mad.
Mad that I’d made creativity so complicated.
Mad that I was ignoring her.

And honestly? She was right.

So how am I managing the thoughts now?
🌀 Making space for what matters
🧹 Removing what doesn’t—in small bits
🗂️ Creating systems for my expressions (writing, music, work, school)
🌊 Going to the beach more often
💬 Talking it out

If you’ve battled intrusive thoughts, you’re not alone.
You can quiet them. You can live less distressed.
It’s a journey. And I’m walking it with you.

Upcoming Projects
Lordy, lord, lord… I’m equal parts excited and terrified.

But the creative juices? They are flowing.
I looked through our video. It's ready. It just needed a home.

So I built one.

I'm no designer—but what I’ve created? I love it.
Uploading a video is never just uploading a video—it’s birthing something.

We’re 70% ready.

Next week, you’ll see the whole thing.
But for now, here’s a glimpse from that night one year ago.

Until next week,
with love and laughter,
Oibiee