3/1/2023 Afraid of the Night Sky

Hey Diary,
Sorry this entry’s dour, so shortly after the last one too.
Honestly, it’s just that I’m so, down, and up, and up.
Seems like even my gas lasts only a few days to just stay in one version of myself, kinda can’t help but think I’m falling apart at the seams. I wish I could get a grip and get a handle on myself but I’m so angry, so frustrated, so doomy. It’s the fucking everything that makes up every nightmare that days seem to be.
I keep letting myself down, letting weekends go by, poisoning my own wells, not pushing through this malaise for something greater.

My tarot deck says that risk is bad right now but, inaction is death in this regard. Do I have it the worst? Likely not, but that’s not practical nor does it matter. So, I’ll taper risk in the obvious areas, the places where I’m fucking up, and crank the amps on this circuit to something I want, something I desire. I miss working out, yoga, God the past few weeks have felt like forever. I wish I could say I could even appreciate what all this was for, but the hormonal whiplash utterly sucks cocks. Maybe I gotta burn some shit down, build up from anew. I’m a sucker for phoenixes, a massive one. Imagine if they were real.
(Just now clicking that they might actually exist *in people*……fuck)

Am I close to something here? Is this shit all just beyond my veil of comprehension? Is this concert an opportunity to reignite my flame? forge a connection? fuck if I know diary.
So pissed about the art thing, so tired of the visuals clicking and the majestic mystery being replaced by “wow that looks like utter shit” guess it looked less bad than last time but honestly, I find my sketches more soulful, I’m always freer when I can just fill something.
I’ve been quitting on myself. Maybe I’ve been running away too, yeah, I’ve been running away.

I’ve talked about flow before yeah? It’s this theory that a person can…. attain a state of being something akin to water, flow is, really my personal home it’s where everything stops being noisy and I can bite into something warm, something fulfilling, not quite sure where Buddhism may fit into my personal religious hodgepodge but if it is Buddhist, it’s been quite welcome in my life.
Something about writing this garbage word vomit always makes me feel better.

For some reason putting all my strange and absolute brain-blended feelings and emotions out there just makes it all flow out. I often wonder, if I had used this as an outlet earlier in life if I would’ve repressed as much as I did or gotten my amnesia but getting a kid to take meds was a feat enough regardless of whether I needed them or not. I have been quitting on myself because I’m afraid of getting my hand burned, I don’t want to face failure or less than stellar results, I don’t want to face the results that I feel I know will occur.

So I run, I give up, I stop making progress, I cheat and that pain is easier. Fucking idiot, that’s not the me I fought for. Bad habits die hardest, I can do better, there is no monster under my bed, there is no demon here to chastise me and I will never be called weird again. (Unless I want to be)
Ace of swords is, supposed to be a good card, the only one I didn’t pull that wasn’t inverted, the only one that felt anything but cautious.

So yeah, I’ll temper myself, I’ll refocus I’ll come back into my own and stop covering my head with the sleeping bag, I’ll gaze at the stars and reject my fear of the darkness in the night sky.

Diary 2/16/23

Hi diary, guess it’s about that time yeah? I’ve been told I should write this week, to take time to do something I want. It’s all falling apart, it all feels fucked and I’m so frustrated, I’m so angry, I’m so irritable the more I speak the less I feel the rawness and it just ebbs and radiates from me. I am really trying to convince myself that I’m wrong, that I’m not fucked, but it keeps coming back and I keep getting kicked when I’m down. I don’t want to spend another year on this. A year, can you believe it? A whole 12 months. I just want things to be okay. I am tired of being sad, I am tired of being surrounded by ghosts, being unable to cry. I don’t know why I won’t let it out, I know it’s me. I know it’s just me being afraid to cry.

Funny how a single screw can be the straw that turns blue days sour. I just don’t want all this to be for nothing diary, I’m tired of the soft rejection and I want a win that I can control. I probably am tired too.

The Big Bang

Ultimately the irony doesn’t escape me.

I think now is the point when I’ve felt like I’m able to control things more. For such a long time I was tied to the notions that I reacted to stimuli, rather than control my self. I think I did this because of fear and also because I could always point to it as evidence of me not failing, can’t fail unless you try right? If anything has to be said, it’s that I want to be better and do better. I’ve moved past the guilt of most of my actions, atoning for them by moving on, forgiving my younger self. I think my art is getting better and, I think that now it’s mostly for me. Though I do ride the occasional jealousy demons back, its certainly not as invited. I’m also practicing radical honesty, discarding my opinions defenses on fragile basis’ saying what I actually think instead. To err is to be human, so it is that humans are hypocrites in some form, why not own it.

Preparing for this has been such a mental ordeal, an ouroboros and rats nest of paperwork, labs, meds, homebrew concoctions, scheduling, evaluations. As I stand at this gate I must ask myself, is this what I want, what I need, or is this the process being seeming more than what it is.

I don’t think I need this, to most people now I am what I am by default, in this way I now am truly learning what it is to be and not be.

I wonder, how far I could have gone on my own, unaided. For so long my inaction felt created or destroyed by the molecules in my veins but now having gone through a downcycle and upcycle far surpassing my previous output I can clearly see. It’s me. I care because I care. I am doing this for me.

The questions of this being a bad choice are long gone now, as the tests confirmed my hoped and unwanted fear. It is fun to be me, I just hope other people see it and understand it. I hope they understand that if I make it through this, the meshing of identities will naturally take root, as the walls coalesce into their own.

I hope, I hope that I like these results. Because, this is a want, one that I had to fight for so strongly.

My spider named Tomie passed away today

The past few days I’ve been wanting to type up something, anything, last year around this time was pretty bleak for me too, though I didn’t really expect to write this in this state. I’ve had, a rough week and an even rougher day. I hate my mourning periods because it means numbness, I’ll be numb for a week, two, disconnected and completely unattached. before this I was upset, frustrated, even had to admit to my therapist I ideated again. One step forward, two steps back.
Tomie had made a webbed-shelf about two months ago, initially I was concerned because I thought she might not be able to drink her water, occasionally I’d clean up the structure so she never boxed herself in, gave her mealworms more than she needed, I always worry especially because sometimes you can’t directly see the kill. Then one day I see her, this was two weeks ago, and I fucking FREAK out, she molted again! molted again! I couldn’t believe it I mean, I thought she was supposed to do that once a year!
I was so relieved too, it meant she was healthy. I kept doing my usual care after she recovered so she wouldn’t get stressed out. Then today I was going to feed her and she just, it didn’t even look like her, usually spiders are supposed to have a “death curl” but she was so webbed up in herself, genuinely looked like another Spider webbed her up. I still don’t believe it. I got her off of her shelf without disturbing her, putting her on her eco-earth but…..she didn’t even twitch.
I feel like a bad owner, I feel like I SHOULD be more sad, I feel like I should hurt more, instead of this heavy ever-present numbness. It’s not even cold, it just IS….
I’m frankly just, so frustrated, weeks I’ve spent, hell months now being a guinea pig for a system I don’t even like (the opposition sucks too by the by, fuck your optics, be a person not a dogma), I finished my first art lesson reviews, even remedials and now have to sit on my ass for two weeks drawing anything that isn’t lessons. I got hit with a wombo combo double edged hammer after I had to expose myself in every way to medical staff only to then draw one of my most hated drawings the next day.
I still haven’t recovered, I’m still pissed and doubtful and sorrowful and just outright fucking disgusted. I’m so bothered and hung up on memories, AGAIN! Memories living totally rent free in my head, knowing full well I’m supposed to control them, not the other way around. I re-did the drawing today, not fully but most of the line art….I don’t hate it. I hope Tomie enjoyed her shelf, even if it did kill her (or me not breaking it down more so she didn’t dehydrate) it was an impressive structure. Genuinely impressive. Maybe she knew? If tarantulas can feel pain I hope it didn’t hurt. She was a good killer.

Diary 8/4/2022

Heyhey Diary,
Lately I’ve been kinda playing classroom frog in my spare time, seems like 1/4th of my week is just therapy or dissection. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t half stressful, sometimes it feels like I have to weigh authenticity with saving face, I’m only really ever good at pretending when it’s for fun not so much appeasing another’s qualifications.
Questions that people ask seem personal and you never get a sense for it until you read the whole set of pages dictating your whole life’s story, “did I really say that?” “Do I really feel that way about those people?” “How the fuck did I know that at that age?”, odd questions that sometimes you can’t help but lightly deny with phrases like; “She must’ve misunderstood.” “Why was it necessary to mention that?” “That’s definitely wrong, was she paying attention?”, though I suppose it’s possible I’m merely just hypercritical.
I remember being really pissed when I got called over-analyzer by a friend when I was young but thinking of it now? It totally makes sense yknow? I wonder if maybe I should re-evaluate my methodology of pose studies, if spending twenty minutes on twenty poses is any better than spending twenty on two. Still scared of color as well, I wonder when exactly this fear stuff started? Still seems like a constant to overcome, yet another to add to the pile.
There’s something else diary, lately my mannerisms have shifted, I’ve noticed that lately silent acknowledgement is my go-to rather than spoken word, strange yeah? I want to play into it but the fact it happened is a note within itself, no? I guess maybe I prefer not speaking to merely waving my hands, actually I guess it’s more my fingers. Something about this rhythmic fanning movement it just feels like it’s mine. Like a signature, it’s a silent semi-unique acknowledgement “I see you” “words aren’t necessary to convey this emotion”.
It’s all so difficult diary, some days I feel like I’m being swallowed whole by a life that’s a thread away from chaos and dystopia, other days it feels like I’m living out a fantasy, achieving everything I set out to do. I got through my first few rings of dissection, a few more and I might just be able to get what I want, though I do question if what I want is going to equate to a better baseline of life or merely placate some inner demon.
What a difficult ordeal.

Diary 7/13/22 Do you think girls get told they…

Hi Diary,

Been about almost two weeks huh? Hard to believe, I got caught up in some major whirlwinds and kinda let the diary slip, I’ve been working on art, truthfully I feel off balance on progress. I feel like I’ve kinda shelled myself off emotionally, too much action, too much mental density. I’ve been fixating on smoking again, typical self destructive old ego. I started dressing like,well me, I even went all out for no reason recently, pretty sick yeah? I need more skirts, sometimes I’m noticing that if a fabric or shape is mismatched it ruins a cohesive outfit, wonder what’s going on in my head to cause these changes. The daydreams are getting odd too, still positive and dreamy but more grounded. You remember how my rooms been for months? Art not put up, stupid clutter? I cleaned it all up for therapy appointments and honestly now it feels like such a grounded hub. I think I was running from my own space, even myself.

I slept on it, but ultimately it doesn’t seem to really help. Seems my current mode is fixated on, well, being separate. I don’t think I’m in a bad mood, nor really an ecstatic bombastic one, in a way I feel…. neutral? I have my same dreams, hopes, and there’s also a slight nagging of memories but I can’t exactly feel or engage with them. Off-topic but sometimes I wonder if candles are a scam, they’re just about the most dogshit way to freshen up a room, or get a scent at all. I did it diary, I started working on my emotional piece, then I started drawing well, you guessed it, Danganronpa HAHAHA. Lately though I’ve been challenging myself to yknow, not be stuck on only one thing. I’m back on a electro-noise kick, I went through Nirvanas discog again, I just don’t think their quality is super consistent. Sneaker Pimps is selling that “lost” feeling I’ve got lately. Do you think girls get told they have puppy dog eyes? Well, I’m meandering but I guess lately that writing buzz hasn’t sunken in. So excited to draw my core.

Diary 7/1/22 ONE DAY till AX!!

Hi Diary,
I wish I could say this time I’m coming to you would be a happy one but I’m crashing hard and honestly it’s my fault. Japanese is still progressing, I’m doing art even though I can’t say I’m liking any of it, even the pose studies I thought were decent last week are just appearing awful to me. I’m being hard on myself again, always so hard on myself. The amount of things that can go wrong at AX are shrinking but my stress is only growing, I really need to be happy these next few days. I have to sew my cosplay, the joke is that if I had learned to sew so long ago things like this would be so much simpler

^^Is what I drafted yesterday^^
Truthfully I couldn’t finish it, yesterday I just must have been intent on having a bad day, I came home from work, went straight to sewing my buttons, watched two episodes of lain, then washed my face, vented to a friend over SMS and ended up sobbing on the floor. I guess it was all really built and pent up huh?
I spent a few years of my life unable to cry so honestly I’m very happy that finally I’m getting all this crap out of me. You know I never exactly planned it but right after AX I have therapy and another laser treatment, suffice it to say it’s….extremely overwhelming and I guess I was just swallowing it and saying “well it must be because of the con!” but anyways, mopey stuff aside, I’m super fucking excited! I don’t know if I’m gonna make it to every panel or get whatever merch I want but it’ll be very interesting!
Sewing buttons kinda made me realize that maybe next year I’m gonna get a blazer and make a real-ass authentic Junko top (truthfully I think maybe next time I should do a new character). I think if I lost enough weight Faye and Jinx would be very fun.
I might post a photo or two if I’m not too embarrassed. Today I have to get my vaxx test and vaxx wristband so I won’t need it tomorrow, honestly my list of things needed to be done before the con tomorrow is short, none of them I can do at work unfortunately but I’m gonna try really hard to stay positive! Once this is done it’s back to art and motorcycle focus for me.