3.5.11
Big big big...
...new update is coming later today once I wake up from my coma [if I can get to sleep]. Lots of stuff to catch up on. And yes, this includes a handful of drawings.
29.4.11
I almost sent it.
An email to a friend. Until I realized that, though it's awfully sweet and thoughtful, it's probably not the type of thing she really appreciates. Now, I could be wrong about that given the nature of sensitive things and how people usually hide them from the world, but I usually end up feeling like I...
Hmm... I had an epiphany mid-sentence. I was going to say that I end up giving love away too freely sometimes and feel like it was never really wanted by that person in the first place. Maybe you don't get much of a reaction from them. Maybe they don't [or can't] articulate very well what it meant to them. Maybe it didn't mean anything to them and you get silence. I mean, c'mon! What's more unnerving than spending an hour or two trying to craft a hug via words on a screen through intense scouring of the internet for all of the right things they might be needing to hear or see... and getting a heaping helping of silence?
It's a catch-22. They don't know that you were devoting hours to writing one email, but you can't mention that because then you're placing some kind of price tag on their reaction.
"You need to cry and tell me this is just what you were missing today because I said that I spent two hours on one email." Say that and you'll end up sounding needy and desperate. And really, I just want to do what I can from the outside to help.
-----
But isn't that what love is? Isn't that what love does? It gives itself on the presupposition that it isn't expecting or wanting anything in return. Isn't it love that says, "Yes, there's a large chance that what I'm trying to do for someone else will be ignored or unnoticed or thrown to the wayside, but instead, I'm going to hang onto the possibility that it's arriving at just the right time for them"? And let me tell you, that's the reason I started the email. I wasn't purposefully thinking about her this morning. I simply came across a picture on tumblr that reminded me she's working through heavy personal stuff and that she's struggling to be happy; then I wanted to write her up and remind her I was thinking about her and that she's missed. Who knows, it might be possible that our hearts function on some psychic wavelength, unique to everything else in the universe; and that it's possible for you to just know, in some quiet unexplainable way, when someone else isn't doing so well.
But basically, I went from feeling confident warm fuzzies... to "maybe this is too much..." to "nevermind, this is stupid. girls don't actually like sensitive caring guys because that's the world's biggest fucking hoax. delete it."
They weren't lying when they said that loving is risky. And I'm not even talking about the I'm-in-love-with-you love, but even just the I-care-about-this-person's-well-being-and-want-to-help-make-them-happy love; platonic love. You insist to yourself that it's being given out purely as a freebie, but then end up balking right before you click send. Sounds to me like there's an unspoken risk hiding in there somewhere...
You then find yourself here in your journal trying to figure out if you were being brave for starting or smart for quitting. But who's more important? Me or her? Because if she is, I'd run the risk to my own ego that I'll sound like a cliche-ridden-dorkus-face if it means that I might hit the X on the spot.
*sigh*
Time to go sound like a moron...
Hmm... I had an epiphany mid-sentence. I was going to say that I end up giving love away too freely sometimes and feel like it was never really wanted by that person in the first place. Maybe you don't get much of a reaction from them. Maybe they don't [or can't] articulate very well what it meant to them. Maybe it didn't mean anything to them and you get silence. I mean, c'mon! What's more unnerving than spending an hour or two trying to craft a hug via words on a screen through intense scouring of the internet for all of the right things they might be needing to hear or see... and getting a heaping helping of silence?
It's a catch-22. They don't know that you were devoting hours to writing one email, but you can't mention that because then you're placing some kind of price tag on their reaction.
"You need to cry and tell me this is just what you were missing today because I said that I spent two hours on one email." Say that and you'll end up sounding needy and desperate. And really, I just want to do what I can from the outside to help.
-----
But isn't that what love is? Isn't that what love does? It gives itself on the presupposition that it isn't expecting or wanting anything in return. Isn't it love that says, "Yes, there's a large chance that what I'm trying to do for someone else will be ignored or unnoticed or thrown to the wayside, but instead, I'm going to hang onto the possibility that it's arriving at just the right time for them"? And let me tell you, that's the reason I started the email. I wasn't purposefully thinking about her this morning. I simply came across a picture on tumblr that reminded me she's working through heavy personal stuff and that she's struggling to be happy; then I wanted to write her up and remind her I was thinking about her and that she's missed. Who knows, it might be possible that our hearts function on some psychic wavelength, unique to everything else in the universe; and that it's possible for you to just know, in some quiet unexplainable way, when someone else isn't doing so well.
But basically, I went from feeling confident warm fuzzies... to "maybe this is too much..." to "nevermind, this is stupid. girls don't actually like sensitive caring guys because that's the world's biggest fucking hoax. delete it."
They weren't lying when they said that loving is risky. And I'm not even talking about the I'm-in-love-with-you love, but even just the I-care-about-this-person's-well-being-and-want-to-help-make-them-happy love; platonic love. You insist to yourself that it's being given out purely as a freebie, but then end up balking right before you click send. Sounds to me like there's an unspoken risk hiding in there somewhere...
You then find yourself here in your journal trying to figure out if you were being brave for starting or smart for quitting. But who's more important? Me or her? Because if she is, I'd run the risk to my own ego that I'll sound like a cliche-ridden-dorkus-face if it means that I might hit the X on the spot.
*sigh*
Time to go sound like a moron...
27.4.11
Whattt???
I haven't drawn in so long... and trust me when I say that it doesn't feel good. Spending time away from it is like asking a new mother to spend time away from her baby. I miss it. And I know it's not a good enough excuse to just say I was having anxiety attacks over it (and over-thinking my future with it), but I was fighting really strong bouts of depression this week. It was rough.
That being said, I finally made it in for my appointment (because I was late the first time I set it up and had to reschedule). Based on what I told him, my neurologist also believes I have ADD. He recommended a good neuropsychologist in my city to see for the actual testing and evaluation. I was prescribed a low dosage of Adderall for now. This way, we can get started on figuring out what works for me, what doesn't, and how much of what to take. ...there's a fine-tuning to this process, and I'm honestly just happy that it's gotten underway. I hate waiting.
So, it's now exactly 12:00am as I write this. I'll be working on packing up for a trip I'm heading on in the morning. Heading to Nashville for a week. Gonna run the Nashville Marathon. It'll be my 2nd marathon in the past year. Super stoked to bring home another medal to put up on the wall. That and it's in the Rock And Roll Marathon series; live bands set up at each mile marker. ;]
...I'm gonna draw something tonight. I wanna promise myself that. This loop...I'm gettin back in it.
This song made me happy today:
Lost Woods Dubstep by ephixa
That being said, I finally made it in for my appointment (because I was late the first time I set it up and had to reschedule). Based on what I told him, my neurologist also believes I have ADD. He recommended a good neuropsychologist in my city to see for the actual testing and evaluation. I was prescribed a low dosage of Adderall for now. This way, we can get started on figuring out what works for me, what doesn't, and how much of what to take. ...there's a fine-tuning to this process, and I'm honestly just happy that it's gotten underway. I hate waiting.
So, it's now exactly 12:00am as I write this. I'll be working on packing up for a trip I'm heading on in the morning. Heading to Nashville for a week. Gonna run the Nashville Marathon. It'll be my 2nd marathon in the past year. Super stoked to bring home another medal to put up on the wall. That and it's in the Rock And Roll Marathon series; live bands set up at each mile marker. ;]
...I'm gonna draw something tonight. I wanna promise myself that. This loop...I'm gettin back in it.
This song made me happy today:
Lost Woods Dubstep by ephixa
21.4.11
"I need some time alone with my own thoughts. Got treasures in my mind but I can't open up my own vault..."
Today is another one of those days.
Food doesn't taste good.
Music doesn't sound good.
Nothing is fun, funny, or entertaining.
Everything fucking sucks.
I have no idea how to get out of this funk either.
And there's this immense anxiety about drawing. I can't explain it well, but it's that I keep thinking about drawing...and won't. Or can't. I'm not sure which it is.
I shed tears, have a headache, and hate everything today? Fair enough. Except I already know that if I do what I feel like doing [sleeping], that I'll wake up and maybe feel better. The problem is that I'm quite apt to fall into the same spot again after waking up. But what if I do what I don't feel like doing [drawing]? I don't believe I've ever gone against the grain in a foul mood. I usually just cave in to whatever curl-up-into-a-ball-and-cry gesture that Resistance feeds me.
So...after this post is published, I'm going to put on Big Bang Theory and draw something. Anything. I don't care if it ends up just being a circle. The only thing I know is that it's time for some fucking experimentation.
ugh...this day needs to be over and that appointment needs to get here sooner.
"I don't love you...I always will...oh, I don't love you...I always will..."
--The Civil Wars; Poison & Wine
This song describes exactly how I feel.
Inside my head:
Food doesn't taste good.
Music doesn't sound good.
Nothing is fun, funny, or entertaining.
Everything fucking sucks.
I have no idea how to get out of this funk either.
And there's this immense anxiety about drawing. I can't explain it well, but it's that I keep thinking about drawing...and won't. Or can't. I'm not sure which it is.
I shed tears, have a headache, and hate everything today? Fair enough. Except I already know that if I do what I feel like doing [sleeping], that I'll wake up and maybe feel better. The problem is that I'm quite apt to fall into the same spot again after waking up. But what if I do what I don't feel like doing [drawing]? I don't believe I've ever gone against the grain in a foul mood. I usually just cave in to whatever curl-up-into-a-ball-and-cry gesture that Resistance feeds me.
So...after this post is published, I'm going to put on Big Bang Theory and draw something. Anything. I don't care if it ends up just being a circle. The only thing I know is that it's time for some fucking experimentation.
ugh...this day needs to be over and that appointment needs to get here sooner.
"I don't love you...I always will...oh, I don't love you...I always will..."
--The Civil Wars; Poison & Wine
This song describes exactly how I feel.
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