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I'm Tired of my Own Bullshit
7 years ago
I'm so sick and tired of myself, of the shit that I pull. The following lines are stream of consciousness venting. Expect little structure.
One minute I act all high and mighty and big shit with ego and confidence, I treat people like shit, I offend people by saying something rude, I regret it, but instead of apologizing like a normal person, I throw a tantrum, ruin everyone else's good time and go pout in the corner and flail my arms around like a drama queen and make it be known that I am in fact pouting because god forbid I not make drama out of nothing like a normal fucking person.
I go from fine to in tears deleting myself and my accounts in a matter of moments over the stupidest shit. Exhibit A: Today around 2 hours ago I misheard a friend about a minigame in Mario Party, searched the web for it, got frustrated that I couldn't seem to find it and then upon clarification I realized it was something that had been in many of them, and I felt so stupid and especially stupid because I had gotten so frustrated over it in the first place that I lost it and broke down in tears, asked to be banned from the server and nearly deleted my entire Discord.
It's no secret that my self-esteem with regards to my art has been at its lowest point ever and I'm constantly a critical mess, despite rationally I know it's -fine-, not great, but 'fine'. I literally use my art as my only income. And I'm doing fine. I'm in fact building some small amount of savings. yet I see the works of any of my friends and I find myself right back in the puts, that I should just give up, not because 'I can never be that good' but because I know that if I just tried harder, had more determination, more patience, more meticulousness, that I could do what they do, and yet here I am still, with my mediocre art.
To make matters worth, I'm so stifled by the subjects I draw. I want to draw much more detailed, dramatic scenes, with varied subjects and moods and yet here I am working on the 7th commission in a row using the fucking ellipse tool to draw yet another blue sphere with limbs. I am. so. fucking. tired. of drawing blueberries, and yet, it's the only thing that people want, and thus pays my bills. Saying I'd stop drawing inflation would be starting at square one, again, which I can't afford. I'm too much of a mediocre and unremarkable artist to be marketable, to make it drawing anything outside the whims of this little niche I've dug myself into like a tick.
My health is deteriorating as I lock myself in this room for longer amounts of time, I use my friends online to stave off the insanity, but here's where my work is, where my social life is, where my hobbies are, where my entertainment is, in this little grey box with a shiny screen. I think of smashing it with a hammer, occasionally, if I'm quite frank, but at the same time, then I'll I'm doing is depriving myself of my best friends, forcing myself to face reality where I am awkward, inept, incapable, and around people I hate. Why settle on the people in my physical proximity when I can find people who are into the same things as me? Right? Doesn't change the fact that I seat like shit, feel like shit, both physically and mentally, but I've already got a reputation with the people here for being a shut in. Pay rent, that's all that matters, I suppose.
Another unfortunate consequence of having my world in this little grey box is that I'm prone to distraction. Given determination, I can do 5, 10 comms a day, and still have some time to relax, but most days I can barely work on 1. Here I am right now, putting off working on things that someone paid me money to work on by whining like an articulate 5 year old into the void of the internet.
Before anyone asks, yes, I have sought counselling, therapy, all that good stuff but there's not much that can be offered to me at this current state. Sure I can go back, but the only answer I can really get is "Breath slow, get your head out of itself" and in essence, fix your own powers by sheer willpower. I'm fragile, like a 'special snowflake' whatever the fuck you want to say, the smallest things set me off, and I stay in a tantrum for hours, and before, during, and after said tantrum, I crave being put out, being recognized as the shit that I am, being excluded feels almost inviting, then my actions are justified, I can throw a tantrum and it have consequences, then maybe I'll learn my lessons, maybe, maybe. But no, the people I know, my friends, they just fucking put up with my bullshit, and it's not fair to them. How many times can someone weather my tantrum shitstorm before they crack and they close the blinds for good? Too many. Should I find out? No. Will I? Probably someday because I can't stop my bullshit.
I don't know. I really don't know. I don't know what I want. Why I'm like this. Why this is acceptable. Why I'm not suicidal, at all. I don't know.
Know that I'm really not trying to beg for attention, and I certainly don't want a "You're fine, dude" "Aww, don't worry, you're none of those things". Those make things worse. Something is definitely wrong. Don't just tell me to ignore it with platitudes. My notes and Discord are open.
One minute I act all high and mighty and big shit with ego and confidence, I treat people like shit, I offend people by saying something rude, I regret it, but instead of apologizing like a normal person, I throw a tantrum, ruin everyone else's good time and go pout in the corner and flail my arms around like a drama queen and make it be known that I am in fact pouting because god forbid I not make drama out of nothing like a normal fucking person.
I go from fine to in tears deleting myself and my accounts in a matter of moments over the stupidest shit. Exhibit A: Today around 2 hours ago I misheard a friend about a minigame in Mario Party, searched the web for it, got frustrated that I couldn't seem to find it and then upon clarification I realized it was something that had been in many of them, and I felt so stupid and especially stupid because I had gotten so frustrated over it in the first place that I lost it and broke down in tears, asked to be banned from the server and nearly deleted my entire Discord.
It's no secret that my self-esteem with regards to my art has been at its lowest point ever and I'm constantly a critical mess, despite rationally I know it's -fine-, not great, but 'fine'. I literally use my art as my only income. And I'm doing fine. I'm in fact building some small amount of savings. yet I see the works of any of my friends and I find myself right back in the puts, that I should just give up, not because 'I can never be that good' but because I know that if I just tried harder, had more determination, more patience, more meticulousness, that I could do what they do, and yet here I am still, with my mediocre art.
To make matters worth, I'm so stifled by the subjects I draw. I want to draw much more detailed, dramatic scenes, with varied subjects and moods and yet here I am working on the 7th commission in a row using the fucking ellipse tool to draw yet another blue sphere with limbs. I am. so. fucking. tired. of drawing blueberries, and yet, it's the only thing that people want, and thus pays my bills. Saying I'd stop drawing inflation would be starting at square one, again, which I can't afford. I'm too much of a mediocre and unremarkable artist to be marketable, to make it drawing anything outside the whims of this little niche I've dug myself into like a tick.
My health is deteriorating as I lock myself in this room for longer amounts of time, I use my friends online to stave off the insanity, but here's where my work is, where my social life is, where my hobbies are, where my entertainment is, in this little grey box with a shiny screen. I think of smashing it with a hammer, occasionally, if I'm quite frank, but at the same time, then I'll I'm doing is depriving myself of my best friends, forcing myself to face reality where I am awkward, inept, incapable, and around people I hate. Why settle on the people in my physical proximity when I can find people who are into the same things as me? Right? Doesn't change the fact that I seat like shit, feel like shit, both physically and mentally, but I've already got a reputation with the people here for being a shut in. Pay rent, that's all that matters, I suppose.
Another unfortunate consequence of having my world in this little grey box is that I'm prone to distraction. Given determination, I can do 5, 10 comms a day, and still have some time to relax, but most days I can barely work on 1. Here I am right now, putting off working on things that someone paid me money to work on by whining like an articulate 5 year old into the void of the internet.
Before anyone asks, yes, I have sought counselling, therapy, all that good stuff but there's not much that can be offered to me at this current state. Sure I can go back, but the only answer I can really get is "Breath slow, get your head out of itself" and in essence, fix your own powers by sheer willpower. I'm fragile, like a 'special snowflake' whatever the fuck you want to say, the smallest things set me off, and I stay in a tantrum for hours, and before, during, and after said tantrum, I crave being put out, being recognized as the shit that I am, being excluded feels almost inviting, then my actions are justified, I can throw a tantrum and it have consequences, then maybe I'll learn my lessons, maybe, maybe. But no, the people I know, my friends, they just fucking put up with my bullshit, and it's not fair to them. How many times can someone weather my tantrum shitstorm before they crack and they close the blinds for good? Too many. Should I find out? No. Will I? Probably someday because I can't stop my bullshit.
I don't know. I really don't know. I don't know what I want. Why I'm like this. Why this is acceptable. Why I'm not suicidal, at all. I don't know.
Know that I'm really not trying to beg for attention, and I certainly don't want a "You're fine, dude" "Aww, don't worry, you're none of those things". Those make things worse. Something is definitely wrong. Don't just tell me to ignore it with platitudes. My notes and Discord are open.
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