Are You Creatively Stuck? (Childhood Trauma)

Reparenting The Inner Child Course:

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INNERCHILD

The Artist's Way:

Nat Geo Journal Link:

Journal Prompts

Journal Prompt #1
What are some patterns and stuck places you have about being more creative.

-Do you have false starts?
-Are you really afraid of showing people your interests or your work?
-Have you longed to do something but can never bring yourself to try.

Write out several paragraphs of the stuck places and feelings – be sure to include the fear or what you think is going to happen if you do something. Think of this over your lifetime.

Journal Prompt #2
What are some trauma memories you have or parental dynamics that are painful about about creativity. Do you remember times where you really got shot down and your creative heart went underground? Be specific and write a couple paragraphs.

Examples

"My mother would just say "ok" when I showed her my early drawings. There was no love, energy, or feedback and I stopped because it felt like I was doing something bad and she was being "nice" by not telling me it was stupid.

"I remember my middle school music teacher telling me I should never try singing again…"

“A kid I started playing in a band with in high school said I sucked at guitar and should just play bass so I did and hated it.”

Journal Prompt #3
How does your family view artists, and how does it affect your creativity? How does your family view you as a creative?

Was a sibling assigned the role as the creative one?
Are artists viewed as frivolous losers who will always be poor?
Is art and creativiety a threat or something so foreighn to them because they are really shut down or one dimensional?

Journal Prompt #4
What is your inner narrative around trying something creative - even if that's just a painting night with your kids or a paint night with your partner?

What does your inner child believe about what is good enough and being a beginner? Pay attention to whatever comes up.

Even if your inner child feels like it’s a waste of time, why?

There is often a more important thigns to do kind of energy with childhood trauma survivors.

Journal Prompt #5
What is it that you want to try but feel stuck around?
I would like to…

• Start a blog or social media page on an idea
• Take a dance class
• Embrace a part of myself that I hide
• Do karaoke without a shame attack
• Get a tattoo
• Learn to really draw , or pain, or write
• Start a small business in my interests

Instead of sad feelings around these things, can they be turned into goals or dreams you’re working towards.

Learn more about Patrick Teahan,
Childhood Trauma Resources and Offerings

MUSIC IS BY:
Chris Haugen - Ibiza Dream

Editing Service:

⚠️ Disclaimer

My videos are for educational purposes only. Information provided on this channel is not intended to be a substitute for in person professional medical advice. It is not intended to replace the services of a therapist, physician, or other qualified professional, nor does it constitute a therapist-client or physician or quasi-physician relationship.

If you are, or someone you know, is in immediate danger, please call a local emergency telephone number or go immediately to the nearest emergency room.

If you are having emotional distress, please utilize 911 or the National Suicide Hotline
1-800-273-8255

[patrickteahanofficial]

Chapters:
0:00 Intro
2:34 Being Seen is the Problem
3:15 Neglect Is A Major Culprit
7:11 Stuck Around Creative Expression - Examples
10:13 The Bigger Story Around Neglect
12:51 Creative Connection During Development
15:46 Creativity Issues & Childhood Traumas
18:43 How Do We Get Unstuck?
19:09 #1 Normalize Vulnerability
21:04 #2 Lower Your Expectations
23:45 #3 Battle Beliefs From Childhood Trauma
25:20 Journal Prompt #1
25:54 Journal Prompt #2
26:36 Journal Prompt #3
27:10 Journal Prompt #4
27:44 Journal Prompt #5
28:27 Resources - Reparenting The Inner Child Course
30:25 Resources - The Artist's Way
31:07 Final Thoughts
33:11 Outro

[susansourby]

When I was in 7th grade, my art teacher asked me if my mother told me that she called her to tell her about my unique ability to draw. I told the teacher, "No:" Later in the week, I asked my Mom if the art teacher called - she paused for a moment and appeared to be thinking. Finally, she said, " Oh, yeah; I guess she did, " and that was all she said. When I was in the 10th grade, my drawings were selected and exhibited at the Hudson Valley Museum in Yonkers, NY. Though we lived close to the museum, my parents never thought to bring me or themselves to the art exhibit to celebrate my drawings and/or my young life. In my 20s, I was actually talented enough to sell my drawings. Creativity helped me survive. Even though my drawings were celebrated by others, I never felt deserving of the praise because i could not get it from the people I wanted to accept me most- my parents. Instead, my mother would praise the artwork of our neighbor's daughter, and I would feel worse than ever .

[Cornchps]

5 minutes into this video and I want to watch it but can’t because it hurts too much. I’m feeling ashamed of myself for not letting myself be myself for so long

[moonbread]

Oh man, I definitely fall into the trap of buying lots of items to start a new creative hobby and then never using them. Shopping for materials feels so much more comfortable/cozy to me than actually engaging in a new activity 😬

[clawdabove]

The timing of this video is kinda freaking me out. When the student is ready the teacher appears.

[naturalebeing]

My dad is a musician. Growing up my life revolved around going to his shows and sitting in recording studios. I looked up to him and got my first guitar at 5. My most devastating and vivid memories were when he’d come home and I excitedly said “dad let me show you the song I learned!!” And he’d say “no I’m busy”. Or “hey dad can you teach me how to play this song?” “No im busy” always “no I’m busy, get out”. I was in a band in my early 20s, 6 years ago, and he never came to one show. Oh and anytime I’ve showed him one of my songs, he gives me a critique. I relate highly to this video, never pursued my dreams because I’ve never felt good enough. Lots of self sabotage too.

[SatanenPerkele]

I was both severely shamed and ignored about my creative talents. My creativity was never genuinely encouraged or supported. And creativity is the very core of my soul. 💔

[SB-kccl]

I apologize for the length of this post but I really feel the need to get this out.
When I was between the 5th and sixth grades, my mother had been in Kuwait for the previous 9 months as a secretary for the US Army Corps of Engineers. When she got back, she announced that she was marrying her boss, a Colonel in the Army and that we were moving to San Francisco. I and my whole family were from and lived in Kentucky, so I would be leaving all them, including my father behind.
When we finally arrived in San Francisco, my stepfather sat me down for our first actual one on one conversation. He asked me what I wanted to do for a living and I told him I hadn’t thought of that too much but I enjoyed drawing, so maybe I would be an artist. He looked at me gravely and said “you don’t want to be an artist, you won’t make any money.” He then asked me if I thought I would be successful in life and I didn’t know what to say so I said yes. He then asked me why and I told him because my mother and father were. He again looked at me gravely and said “you really think your father is successful?”. I’ll never forget the disdain and dismissiveness on his face. My father had worked in the General Electric factory since before I was born.
Here I am now at 43, working in a warehouse and playing guitar. I constantly have doubts about my creative ability and shame that I’ve not been in a “successful.” Career. It’s really hitting me how much this 5 minute conversation, 32 years ago has controlled my life since. I’m not looking for a pity party, but I hope someone else who reads this may realize that if a similar thing has happened to them, it’s not the truth and it’s not their fault.

[Swayyy]

Would love a video on laziness or just not having any drive

[LeavonCaprivi]

When I was a kid, I really liked to write poems. Once when I was maybe 11 or 12 years old, I wanted to read some of my poems out to my mother who was sitting in the kitchen smoking and reading a book. I remember how I started reading out a poem while she just sat there looking down at the table, gnawing her fingers and looking as if I would do something truly horrific to her. Then the telephone rang (back then it was still a landline phone), so she rushed out of the kitchen to the hallway where the phone was standing with a face expression of relief as if the call gave her the opportunity to escape from an awful and horrible situation. When she had ended the call, she came back to the kitchen and continued reading her book without giving me any further glance. I think I said something like "You are so impossible" to her and ran back to the nursery never ever showing her any of my poems and stories again.

[whimsylore]

I don't believe in concepts like being "self-critical." Behind every critical voice inside us is the echoes of our parents, teachers, authority figures, etc, who criticized by word, action, and implication. You can't dispel a critical voice until you know where it came from, and society loves to victim blame... 😕

[DAWGnROADIE]

5:40 the abusive parent WILL NOT support the abused child’s joy or empowerment. The only exception is when others can see the parent, then that parent is very supportive while being observed. That same parent will consistently attempt to derail the child’s efforts to practice or work towards self improvement. This can be in the form of blocking that activity as a punishment, refusing to pay for materials or lessons, failing to provide transportation, or outright destruction of tools and materials.

[susansourby]

My Dad used to put my drawings in the kindling box, and I would retrieve them before they were used to start a fire in the living room fireplace. I cried a few times and then stopped leaving out my drawings for parents to look at cause they just took no interest in my ability or talent.

[ashanein]

My creativity is stuck because I was my mother's dolly. I don't know what I actually enjoyed and was actually good at. I really believe she inflated my abilities in some hobbies to block me from doing other things. I felt like her little entertainer.

[Ziobbe]

My parents never gave a crap about my art. All I can remember them saying about it was criticism or interrogation over why I'd made certain choices, then an "okay" or "but don't you think you should do it this other way instead?". They mocked my comic strips, especially the way I drew certain things or what I liked to draw comics about. They tried to force me to do other things than painting or writing, saying that if I had the time to waste on them then I should be studying (even though I was already a straight A student without any help from them or anyone else).

I got a drawing in the newspaper and I remember being so anxious that I didn't tell them until the day after the paper went out. I knew we kept several days worth of old papers, though, so I knew we still had it. They asked me what I wanted them to do about it, like "So? So what?". I had to tell them that I wanted it on the fridge, because that's what I had learned that healthy parents did. A few days later they took it off the fridge and threw it out - not even in the trash bin where I could rescue it, but directly to the curb when the garbage collectors came so it was gone forever. When I asked them where it went, and if I could bring it to my room if they didn't want it anymore, they got angry at me and said that I was being unreasonable and ridiculous to expect them to keep it, and it was my fault they got rid of it because I never told them I wanted to keep it. Except I did tell them, and they just lied and said I didn't.

The last time I painted was when I made a lovely landscape and sunset with clouds, trying a new technique I discovered where I used a lot of white space between the brushstrokes. I had to force my father to look up from his game to see it. I begged him to make a photocopy of it to keep in his office (I did not trust him with my originals after the newspaper incident - I was around 8 years old at this point) and he was very confused why he would "waste ink". Finally he had enough and told me to give him the drawing with the tone and look in his eyes that I knew meant he was going to crumple it up and trash it, so I told him I didn't want him to have it and it was okay he didn't make a copy and I didn't need him to do anything and I ran away. That's the last time I got my watercolours out, and I still have the painting. I never drew again, and only felt deep shame and self-hatred for not being good enough later in life when I had art class as part of school. I felt so behind, so worthless, so shameful, and so stupid for not knowing as much or being as good as the other people in my class, or as good as the teacher wanted.

My teachers were awful, too. There was an assignment to write a story in the computer lab, and I wrote a sci-fi story based around the stories I was reading (I was an advanced reader). The teacher shamed me for the choices I made, the punctuation (I used <> for psychic communication instead of "", which is perfectly normal in fantasy books, but the teacher obviously didn't read any of those so she put me down in front of my entire class). Then I was surprised with having to read my story in front of the whole class, plus the teacher and TA and librarian. That was my first anxiety attack. After having my story torn apart by the teacher while I was writing it, I had lost my spark and all the fun in writing it, and I did not want to read it out loud to everyone; especially because I was very afraid to speak up, having been framed by my parents as an abuser for simply speaking (I was accused of interrupting when I wasn't, or bullied for saying the wrong things, bullied for "wanting attention"...). I desperately tried to get out of the class when my story was on top of the pile, so I wouldn't have to read it, but I was having such an anxiety attack I couldn't even see clearly. I ended up going to the bathroom three times to try and avoid it. The memory of me actually reading that story is completely blocked out, I do not know what happened from the last time I went to the bathroom to the end of that week. I don't even remember how I did on that assignment, when I remember how I did on most other impactful ones.

It didn't help that I was far above the rest of my peers in being creative, reading, writing, and so on. I think literally everyone else in my class either wrote a story about princesses or hockey. I wrote a story about a space station that was a hub for members of many different species dealing with some kind of infiltration. Clearly, I was far above my age; the problem was, nobody supported me, and instead put me down. I often had the correct answer in class, I knew things that even the teachers didn't, I corrected them when they made mistakes because I was much more detail-oriented, I was curious, I was intelligent... and I was always put down for it. Abusive teachers got furious that I'd read something they put down right next to my desk out of curiosity (I never touched it). When I offered the correct answer I'd often be put down or mocked or told I needed to do better; then someone else would say the exact thing I said and it would be correct, just I was quiet from being bullied at home so the teachers couldn't hear me correctly. Any mistakes I made would be shamed in public. Even in college, 10 minutes after the calculus prof said "you can always ask questions, there's no stupid questions" I asked for clarification for something and he shamed me in front of the whole class for "not paying attention" and used me as a negative example. I have a hearing disability and he only said it one time, so that was a real shame-attack moment for me where I felt like I was inherently not good enough.

Now, I feel so far behind others in all creative exploits, even if they've spent less time on it than I have. I know that it's because I am still afraid to express myself, so my skill level appears lower than it is, and also because I spend so much time and energy handling my parents, but I still feel totally worthless and full of shame. How could I be proud of anything I do when I'm so used to being confident and then getting emotionally clobbered? How can I express myself and enjoy what I do when I'm so used to me being earnest and doing my best and then getting savagely bullied, including how I'm stupid for not noticing something wrong with my creation or a moron for not doing it better or a bad person for my choice of content or being used as a negative example for something I did wrong (or even just a stylistic choice I consciously made different than how someone else wanted). When I speak up and share my understanding and get told I'm wrong and called "new" to something I've been practicing for years. Just seeing someone know something I don't, or be better at a certain aspect of a creative field than I am, fills me with intense shame and impostor syndrome and the feeling that everyone can see right through everything I do and knows I'm a horrible empty person who just can't do anything right and is a total idiot.

I don't even feel like I can come back from that, like I can get better, because the problem is I'm behind, and one step behind means you're behind for a lifetime. How can I ever be as good at writing as these people who've already started and are already ahead? How can I feel like I have any worth as an artist at all when everyone's already learned so much more than me, and more knowledge and learning keeps being discovered, and I'm still playing catchup while my peers are running further ahead? How can I say any idea I have or understanding I have or conclusion I've reached when I feel like everyone else has already gone past that idea or conclusion and onto the next one, and mine is obsolete and stupid and wrong and I'm going to be used as a negative example for others? I just feel like nobody would ever choose me, nobody wants me, that everything I do is somehow bad and shameful and stupid and guilty, and it's so hard. Not having anyone supportive when I was growing up, not even a single adult or peer, has really fucked me up in a lot of ways. Was it so hard to love a child, or support them, or even if that was too hard, to just... let the child be?

I won't ever stop fighting, but I get so, so, so tired.

[ashleyspiano]

This is my favorite video you've made. And you're right that creativity isn't limited to art, etc. I had no idea I was allowed to be good at science because my parents praised my drawing skills and acted like nothing else was an option. My ability to create in general was stifled despite the seeming support of art. I've recently tried writing short stories and learning science that I missed out on during school. I'm sad to notice how much I enjoy both- more than drawing.

Dismissive adults were my biggest source of shame and a huge trigger still to me today. I grew up being taught a black and white world, not only this not that, but that the other one was downright BAD or disgusting. I know now how arbitrary and subjective all those little rules were. And I mourn the loss of exposure to so much of the world I know and love today.

[liveliife]

Not my mom throwing away my drawing books because she thought it would hinder my education 🙄 so thoughtless 😤

[MadsMcKay]

"Shame attack" is extremely useful to describe what I've been struggling with for quite some time now. This is a great information, going to check out the Reparenting Inner Child course.

[naanpareil]

I haven't crocheted in a while because it was so weaponized, I felt that it was a craft that was an order, only in service of others. I think I want to make something for me for the first time in my life ❤

[starlabaker]

I was born and raised a Jehovah's witness. Since i was little creative experession was my identity. Over time going through sexual abuse as a child, neglect, cult influence, and as i got older toxic relationships, addictions, and mental illness, I've lost my way, isolated myself, haved self sabotaged, i feel like im in a fog like the scene from the movie "The Others" where Nichole Kidman's character gets stuck in the fog when she tries to leave her home and go into town. I cried watching this video but thank you so much for making it. I dont want to give up.