I Had A Craniotomy & Basically Took A Year Off | Creativity After My Craniotomy

Epilepsy Seized My Creativity

Today I realized it's been almost a year since I last wrote something here. Not because I wasn't interested or inspired (actually, my phone is probably confused why I keep putting notes in it that I haven't come back to) but because after living with epilepsy for over twenty years and never having it completely controlled, I needed to really reexamine what my neurodivergent brain was doing. And it turned out all that examination would lead to a craniotomy- which I had in September.

But the tests, the doctors visits, the surgery itself- those are just parts of the story. Another piece entirely is how creativity after my craniotomy would look like.

Realizing it's been a year since I've been here; that I had ideas that I couldn't work on because I was too busy making sure all my medical documents were in order, honestly... makes me sad.

Does Rest = Failure?

And I hear similar struggles from you guys all the time too:

"How can I write every. single. day?"

or worse "What's wrong with me that I can't write every single day?"

That's disgusting hustle culture trying to snake its way into our creative brains- this toxic insistence that rest = failure. Like an AI bot trying to take credit for the Mona Lisa.

Here's the thing: no medical professional prior to surgery could tell me what I would be like after my craniotomy. They couldn't tell me if recovery would take two days or four hundred.

(Or the grimmer/real thought that I wouldn't have the chance to recover at all).

So, honestly, I don't know the last thing I wrote just for myself (although, around February, I did draw some pretty cute cartoons for my neurologist).

Carrie Bradshaw, Creativity, and A Couch

Sitting here, writing this, pulling up my little laptop honestly makes my eyes tear up. And then I laugh at myself because I think of Carrie Bradshaw in Sex & the City (everyone wants to be Carrie, but let's be honest- we're more like Miranda). Episodes in that series always show Carrie at the end, having been through a bunch of bullshit, writing for her devoted fanbase about how to date. And then for some reason at the end she marries Mr. Big and her dreams come true (oops- spoilers).

But this isn't TV, and I'm not having some sort of magic moment where I'm healed and all my dreams come true. I'm sitting on my couch I got from Facebook Marketplace and finally doing something I love: writing.

If you've been in a weird spot- because your neurodivergent brain was too overwhelmed, too tired, or literally laying in a hospital bed- I hope this reflection on creativity after my craniotomy reminds you that you can come back to your creativity on your own terms.

I'm trying not to paint this as a big shiny moral lesson. Because at the end of the day, it's not. You've probably heard the phrase "it's a spiritual journey."- implying that it doesn't end. But maybe you haven't or needed the reminder.

I Missed Writing: Creativity After My Craniotomy

Here's my big take-away: I missed writing words down. I missed the way it let me pull away my mask- mostly because I was so busy masking in a flurry of talking to people about what was coming up. Writing this feels like a huge exhale.

I've been worried about writing again with the "perfect" ideas- but this blog in and of itself isn't perfect. I know that. So how can it feel like such a relief? Because it isn't the perfect post or poem that brings everything into alignment. It's just putting a word down at all.

There's no right way to come back- especially in art. No firework show; loud announcement; everything in perfect order.

Just your pen and paper (or fingers and keys) writing one sentence. Even if it sucks. Even if it's shaky. And for today, that's enough.

Just One

Navigating your own creative return?

Typically I give 3 prompts. Sometimes our neurodivergent brains are operating on extreme mode- unable to sleep until something is complete, fully retreated so far into ourselves that we can't even start, or hovering somewhere in the middle. (It is a spectrum after all.)

But today is different. Today, write just one sentence. Or even one word. Whatever is rattling around inside your brain- put it on paper. Let it exist outside of your brain.

Maybe you write "I really love saltine crackers." or just "Blue."

It doesn't need to make sense. You don't have to share it. You just have to let it out.

Looking for more? Check out these blogs:

The Neurodivergent's Guide To Unmasking Via Creative Writing

When The Yap Goes Silent (Being Hyperverbal with Nothing To Say)

Dylan King is a Trauma Informed Spiritual Coach whose work revolves around helping fellow neurodivergent minds like yours use creative writing as a tool on your spiritual journey.

Pick your own path: a digital download, grabbing my free ebook, or 1:1 coaching- there's a way to take that ache to create and let it guide you on your spiritual journey.