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Mental Update 1/8/2025
8 months ago
Have you ever looked in the mirror, and stared at yourself? tracing the details of your face, making a note of each and every detail, but then get distracted, only to look back and it becoming an abstract mess of shapes?
New Year, new me.... or atleast I hope
To be honest, I face this everyday with my life, during seasonal depression, it almost feels like people's faces melt away, except to an amass of shapes and figures that resemble what can be described as a face and maybe a person, as life starts to feel like theres a lack of depth in it. Everything is becoming so black and white again.
People online are starting to distort, And Im afraid Im going to be alone again, when everything becomes unrecognisable once again,
Its weird to say it outloud, but living in a world full of abuse and neglect from when I was younger due to my father, I generally dont know what normality is, and Im afraid to experience it, when I thought this was normal, to occasionally look in the mirror and see yourself as a child again, scared, wondering why the police would visit so often, and why dad held a knife to mum
Im afraid because I dont know what its like to be normal.
And yet its getting worse, everything is degrading more and more, and it feels like Im torn between a world of normalicy and insanity
Im afraid of either side in the cycle, on which bottomless pit I will be falling into.
even things that I found normal I find oddly disgusting now, things that I used to enjoy, just lacking that enthusiam or spark that it had that caused me to enjoy it.
A couple of Days ago, I went to my therapist for a visit, and decided to delve a bit deeper, discuss why I would be into such things as incest or being a Pornography Artist. It led to a conversation on how I particularly favoured father and son incest, compared to others. She told me that the reason I particularly liked incest art was because I lacked a loving father in my life and that it was my mind trying to piece together and comprehend what a loving relationship looked like buy essentially piecing it with the most extreme parts I know, that being Sex.
It also led to a discussion onto my hobbies as an artist and I found out the reason I became a porn artist was due to hypersexulisation as a trauma response, nothing more, nothing less, just a simple trauma response to comfort myself when my mind knew of no else.
However, after seeing it, I look at my own works of art and my gallery in disgust, that this entire time wasn't a passion, or maybe it was partly, but because I was solely using it as a trauma response, nothing more than a way to prevent me from hanging myself in my bathroom.
I guess its something I just have to deal with
Alexander
New Year, new me.... or atleast I hope
To be honest, I face this everyday with my life, during seasonal depression, it almost feels like people's faces melt away, except to an amass of shapes and figures that resemble what can be described as a face and maybe a person, as life starts to feel like theres a lack of depth in it. Everything is becoming so black and white again.
People online are starting to distort, And Im afraid Im going to be alone again, when everything becomes unrecognisable once again,
Its weird to say it outloud, but living in a world full of abuse and neglect from when I was younger due to my father, I generally dont know what normality is, and Im afraid to experience it, when I thought this was normal, to occasionally look in the mirror and see yourself as a child again, scared, wondering why the police would visit so often, and why dad held a knife to mum
Im afraid because I dont know what its like to be normal.
And yet its getting worse, everything is degrading more and more, and it feels like Im torn between a world of normalicy and insanity
Im afraid of either side in the cycle, on which bottomless pit I will be falling into.
even things that I found normal I find oddly disgusting now, things that I used to enjoy, just lacking that enthusiam or spark that it had that caused me to enjoy it.
A couple of Days ago, I went to my therapist for a visit, and decided to delve a bit deeper, discuss why I would be into such things as incest or being a Pornography Artist. It led to a conversation on how I particularly favoured father and son incest, compared to others. She told me that the reason I particularly liked incest art was because I lacked a loving father in my life and that it was my mind trying to piece together and comprehend what a loving relationship looked like buy essentially piecing it with the most extreme parts I know, that being Sex.
It also led to a discussion onto my hobbies as an artist and I found out the reason I became a porn artist was due to hypersexulisation as a trauma response, nothing more, nothing less, just a simple trauma response to comfort myself when my mind knew of no else.
However, after seeing it, I look at my own works of art and my gallery in disgust, that this entire time wasn't a passion, or maybe it was partly, but because I was solely using it as a trauma response, nothing more than a way to prevent me from hanging myself in my bathroom.
I guess its something I just have to deal with
Alexander
