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Cursed with Creating: An Artist's Addiction

There's a kind of addiction that doesn't show up in a rehab. It doesn't make headlines. It doesn't ruin your liver or sleep instead.And that's called being an A...

imtiaz 3 min read · 3 months ago

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There's a kind of addiction that doesn't show up in a rehab. It doesn't make headlines. It doesn't ruin your liver or sleep instead.

And that's called being an Artist.

First hit

It starts small and innocent.

A line. A single sketch in a margin of a notebook. A song in the shower. And then it happens-that rush. When the world disappears and it's just you, a blank page and something pulling your hands to move.

That's the first hit. That's the drug. And like every addiction, you spent the rest of your life trying to feel it again.

Non-artist get bored. Artist get sick.

Artist don't go crazy with alcohol, they go crazy without creating. Three days without a brush and hands forget their language. A week without creating feels like holding your breath. A month without it feels like your dying. You become restless, irritable, numb. Because the art wasn' t just a hobby it was oxygen. It wasn't what you draw, it was how you breath. cursed-with-creating-an-artist-s-addiction

cursed-with-creating-an-artist-s-addiction

But this addiction also costs you. You will miss birthdays because " the piece is not done yet".

Money goes to brushes, not bills.

Sleep goes to ideas, not rest.

You will love people deeply, but you'll love the 2 am idea even more.

Friends will say "you work too much". You will hear "you care too much".

But it's also the cure for you. Here's the twist no one tells you. The same thing that breaks is what that puts you back together.

Heartbreak? Paint it.

Anxiety? Write it.

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Grief? Sculp it.

Artist's don't escape life they metabolise it. They turn pain into color, into melody, into something else that can hold.

It hit's hard when you know you didn't choose this addiction. It chooses you.

And maybe that's okay.

Because the world needs people addicted to noticing beauty.

Addicted to asking "what if". Addicted to making meaning out of almost nothing.

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But the truth is they're cursed with it. This addiction isn't cute. It will bleed them dry if they let it.

It demands everything and give nothing back. It's 4am and their hands won't stop shaking. No sleep, no money, no peace just the next idea, next canvas, next 3am.

It's choosing paint over people, deadlines over sleep, ideas over own sanity. Artist's do kill a piece of themselves for the work.

And the worst part? They can't stop. It's a beautiful prison. They built the bars themselves and called it passion. So yes it's killing them slowly, they are cursed. But stopping isn't a solution either.

Because stopping feels like dying too.

The addiction will keep telling them to stop living to keep creating.