A Case of the RAW Blues
Between 2017 and 2022, I split my time between RAW Made and my passion project, RAW Storytelling. If I’m being honest, RAW Storytelling took over my life—in a good way—during those 5 years. What started as an experiment meant to last a few months turned into a monthly live event with hundreds of attendees, a companion podcast, and me teaching storytelling workshops.
I witnessed many successful moments through RAW Storytelling and, somehow, it registered as if it happened to another person. Someone who was not me. What is this weird disassociating feeling? I have no idea, but I do know it's a feeling I frequently get asked about by fellow entrepreneurs. It seems I'm not alone. We all have a little bit of chronic "Process Nerdism." (Scientific term.)
See, I often describe myself as a process nerd (a term I stole from comedian, Chris Hardwick). It means that I thoroughly enjoy the process of making things happen until "the thing" happens. Then it's on to the next thing. Done, bored, next. And what is the #1 symptom of this condition?
✔️ Feeling depressed after a big accomplishment
A few years ago, I commented on a friend's Facebook post that I would always go from an absolute high on the night of a RAW Storytelling show to an absolute low that lasted, at least, 24 hours after the show ended. I thought it was me and my crazy brain. But as friends who are also growing their ideas into brands started to ask me to describe more in detail what I felt, I realized there's a whole bunch of us out there feeling The RAW Blues.
So I'm pasting below a Facebook message I sent to a friend who wanted to know more about these RAW Blues. My thought process is there are many more of us out there feeling this way and if I can convince you that you're not alone—that will make my day. Ok, here goes:
After each RAW Storytelling show ended, people I knew or didn't came up to me to say how amazing the show was. How it was incredible what I had put together. Then everyone left and I helped the venue staff clean up the space. Then I got into my car and drove home, alone.
It always felt like the saddest car ride ever. To go from the high of feeling like you accomplished something to being completely alone doing mundane tasks such as driving home, feeding and walking the dogs, putting your stuff from the day away, taking a shower, and anything else that needed to be done like dishes, replying to texts, etc.
For me, it was the contrast of being praised for something I did, which I'm not used to, and then having to go back home and do everyday tasks. It made me feel like a fraud. Like the show never happened that night. Then, the next day when I woke up to work, it really felt like last night was a dream. Like it didn't even matter.
I think these feelings had to do with an abnormal amount of praise and admiration followed by a swift return to daily life. I compare it—in a very humble way—to how I would imagine a rockstar feels after filling a stadium and then going to an empty hotel room. There's a big feeling of loneliness and silence with your thoughts, which can lead to doubt that eats at you.
Although I never found a cure for the RAW Blues, I’ve realized that practicing being present (and not just living in the future) helps me appreciate my accomplishments.
What are your thoughts? I would love to hear if you've felt the RAW Blues or maybe, just maybe, you know the cure.
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