It’s a little bittersweet right now… As I’m trying to dedicate my words and energy into the projects I hope to create this year, I’m not sure how to word things on my blog to keep everyone up to date.
I’m currently undergoing something that I have been really terrified of for the past year; going off of my medication for anxiety. I’ve been wanting to attempt it for a long while now, but I’ve always been too scared, so as soon as I start to feel the negative side effects I run right back to these pills I’m told keep me a little more sane.
Sadly, the American health care system is a cruel joke to most, and now has come my time to suffer from it’s inadequacy. It’s been a rough few days.
But I promised myself that I would try hard in 2018 to not the be the negative person I had become when I returned from Japan. I want to believe that things happen when they are supposed to happen. So even though I have lost a lot the past year, and this week has been emotionally draining, I want to accept things as they come.
The past two days I haven’t felt much of anything. I find myself staring blankly at people and not registering words. And I feel so angry and frustrated because I don’t feel like I can say, “Sorry, I’m just coming off my meds.” and people will understand. I know inside it’s rude of me to think; “leave me the fuck alone.” But I just want to be in an unknown place, alone, with nothing but music and words and art.
I’ve been wanting to lose myself mostly in those things. I want to create endlessly, mostly because it keeps my mind off of the world and my messed up self.
I remember a quote I read once about how people who were considered to be genius were insane. I think of the ways in which people compliment me. In the ways I write sometimes, or art, or advice I give. Maybe all artists are insane. It’s not genius, it’s just reality is so unreal to us that we have to entertain our minds with what others consider the impossible.
As I begin to be more open about this side of me, I’ve been thinking how growing up I always hid it. When my life became impacted by negativity and I felt that everything I did was awful and mediocre. All of these skills I should have been proud of, I became extremely ashamed of.
My love for art, languages, words, and weird shit. It’s hard not to think where I could be now if I had only embraced who I was from the beginning.
How I always felt that the things that made my empty self feel empowered were things others could never accept… But there is a world of people like me. Scared, passionate people that also feel nothing at all. All we can do is put out things we create to somehow feel and relate to the world around us.
On the nights I want to die and I can’t fall asleep, writing and drawing make the empty spaces fill with something colourful. On the days when all the words people speak to me sound hazy and far away, a book can feel like the true world I belong to and the characters are either myself or friends.
Maybe I am insane and alone. But I also think maybe there could possibly be a place in this gross world for people like me.