Insecurity

Shadow shows

I pictured myself underwater, the skies dark, as I swam toward something that I knew was an anchor. I reached for it and pulled myself toward it knowing, feeling as though it was the only thing I had left.

In these last two months, I have felt alone, sad, frustrated, full of grief. Each feeling adding on to the next, anger being the most recent. Even with things that I thought would excite me, like having time to draw, my motivation has been low. Everything feels pointless, meaningless almost.

I’ve tried for the last few weeks to keep things “light,” intentionally staying away from referring to the pandemic and sharing how it has been affecting me personally. It was my way of keeping things positive, a way of not adding another burden to whoever read my blog or came across my posts.

But the more I operated out of that mindset, the more I felt like a phony. It didn’t matter whether I shared somber or genuinely positive material, something was still getting in the way—it was my subconscious expectation to ignore the pain.

So, as a means to clear the air with myself, I recognize my need to be honest and acknowledge that sometimes that includes uncomfortable realities and contradicting sentiments. Moving forward, I will share stories and drawings from a place of permission. May I return to this page whenever I need reminding of that.

Playing with shadows.
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Courage

Standing up and the aftermath

This is the first time (ever) that I show up in front of the camera for one of my Instagram stories.

This is a big deal because I consciously tend to hide behind the camera to avoid exposing myself. Not out of shyness (because we all know that’s not true) but out of fear.

For a very long time I have believed that I cannot speak up, stand up for myself, or share my own opinion. That it would be best if I quieted, never said a word, because I wasn’t supposed to. That even if I tried, it would all prove futile.

All of this stems from childhood trauma, living in an environment that reiterated this message over and over. Yet now that I am out, it still haunts me in the form of fear.

More and more, in these last two weeks, I have seen how much my fearful self tends to get in the way. Although she is only trying to help, there is no need for survival anymore. That reality is gone.

The aftermath of my session.

So now I get to pick up the pieces of both my responses to life and my tutorial. Now, I am off to go watch A Ghost Story. Suiting, isn’t it?

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Insecurity

It’s been foggy

So, I know it’s been a week since I said I was going to be posting “every other day,” and I have yet to do so.

It’s been hard, this week. I’ve been foggy and unsure as to why I can’t seem to prioritize the things I want (and know I need) to do that keep me going.

It might be the weather. It might be me. But it might, in fact, be both.

I’m sad to see how distracted I get, to recognize how cluttered my mind is and not know what to do with it. And I freeze.

Where do you begin when it seems like it’s too much to start? When the answer is not easy?

This morning’s thoughts.
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humor, Insecurity

I’m sorry, but you’ve thrown off the emperor’s groove…

It’s 2:30 a.m., and I’ve literally been drafting this post for the last three and a half hours. I’ve held on for this long to ensure that I at least post something.

Despite having a running list of things to share, fear has been getting the best of me. It’s been like this since the beginning of December, which is worrisome. I’m working on dismantling it.

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Creativity

It’s time to face it

I was walking toward the train station at Fairbanks St. yesterday when I looked up to the sky to reflect on an idea coming to mind: I think I need to “come out” to myself about my creative life.

The thought was in reference to Jerry Before Seinfeld, when Jerry jokes about his experience of “coming out” to his parents about wanting to become a comedian.

On the night his parents first see him perform, Jerry reflects:

I was so nervous that night, because I was showing them this whole side of myself, it was like my little gay-closet moment, you know, where I had to say, “Mom, Dad, I’m…I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m a funny person.”

Jerry jokes about now wanting to have a “funny lifestyle” and having “funny friends.”

Although I have creative projects here and there (most of which I don’t finish) and post elements of them on Instagram, I still lack the internal “oomph” to own that creativity is a (big) part of my life.

I surround myself with colors and things that inspire me, yet I feel like I haven’t fully embraced this part of myself. I feel like I haven’t really let myself go.

And that’s what I’m missing.

Admitting, accepting, and acting on the fact that I’m a “creative person” (as Jerry might put it) would only bring more beauty to this world.

So why not share it?

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