TL;DR:

Everything is awful, I hate being alive, and my last ~decade of artblock was actually (likely) Depression, Anxiety, PTSD and ADHD having a Rave high on fumes.

Broke. Broken. Struggling.

Moving.

Getting Therapy. Slow going, but trying to keep on going.

Be excellent to each other.



LONG:

At first I thought it was jsut art block and general laziness.

Then burnout.

And I want to say I'm out of my Depression spiral, but as recently as Monday this mortal coil felt over-rated, and everyone would be better off if I just disappeared into the woods one day. I am not doing as well as other people would like. I struggle to find the compassion for myself.

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I won't say my life is in shambles - money was always hard to make and keep, but my finances have been one of my stresses; I've made less than $5k every year for the last... almost a decade. But I owed art so I tried to resist the urge to take on more work. I was hoping I could put out some adopts and work on owed work in between them, maybe offer refunds, but the money always ran out too fast. I stopped drawing for myself because it felt wrong to get art I didn't pay for. I'd say I stopped enjoying art, but it was more I missed it terribly but it also sickened me, and I lost the ability to perceive my work as anything other than the ugliest lines that had the misfortune to exist - I couldn't let this be what people received. And I keep failing, and getting more frustrated, nothing I drew looked right, my mind was blank of... everything I need to make art. It still often is. It is very difficult for me to draw if I can't picture what I need to. Made worse by the utter fear that unless what i drew was The Very Best and Perfect it wouldn't be good enough to justify the price or the wait (which of course made me want to put extra work and effort in... which took longer... which looked awful to me... which made me want to try harder until I would just sit frozen at my desk for hours).

Art stopped being a treat or reward unto itself. I grieved this loss.

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My wrist still aches every day.
Both my Rotator Cuffs busted within 6 months of each other (one worse than the other, thought I'd broken a bone somehow), some time around 2018, and only this year I noticed I had almost my original range of motion again (still stiff but negligible pain).

Before this, it made making art even more difficult and much much more painful as well. I think I might've made my brain and body associate making art with "being in excruciating physical pain".

Art used to be my safe haven. But commissions started to scare the hell out of me - the idea of going through all the extra pain and effort just to (in my mind) very likely be told the wait wasn't worth it and a refund would be demanded.

It's hard, instead of pushing thru to Just Get More Done I'm trying to listen to my body. Not that my body was letting me do much else. I've been neglecting myself. I probably have nerve damage.

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Two (this year three) years ago my dad passed very suddenly.
It felt like my world ended. I cried every day for months. My mental health deteriorated even more. I started having panic attacks and meltdowns, most lasting days. It caused severe damage to more than one relationship. I had to travel before I was ready, I did not readily retain information or form many memories during that time. The paperwork is still ongoing, and everyone is stressed about it.

I still grieve this loss. It's finally getting easier though, I think?

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Dragoneer passed suddenly.
We weren't close but we'd had pleasant interactions over the last decade or so.
I still miss him; I wish I'd had more conversations with him.

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My mum will possibly be getting some surgery this year (I myself will likely have some procedures coming up over the next 2-3 years). I'll be moving closer to her this year.
I'm not excited by this change - I'll have less space, privacy and agency. Our quirks tend to clash, and I have to live & work to her rhythm rather than my own. It's incredibly disruptive, because I tend to get maybe 2-3 hours to myself and I have to choose Work or to De-stress. And I'm... so... flicking... stressed...
But even then, even if I try to do both, it doesn't result in much progress.

I know she just wants to spend time with me. But I'M not retired and she seems to struggle with the concept of me 'being at work' when I'm in front of my computer for more than an hour. I'm sure we'll work something out... I need to get her some noise-cancelling headphones or something. Something about my voice makes her feel like I'm screaming loud enough for all the neighbours to hear and it's so discouraging to try to have a discussion or even talk with my friends when I'm getting hushed every sentence. OR I'm too quiet for her to hear. I can't seem to find an in-between. (We both have Audio Processing issues that have evidently gotten worse in the last 20 years)

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So yeah, as I mentioned, I'm not doing great.

My appetite disappeared. Even if my appetite makes an appearance my brain makes me nauseous at the thought of eating. Almost all my usual favourites and safe-foods are unappealing. Sometimes I stand in the kitchen for 30 minutes jsut trying to picture a food I want or like or can make... before I sit down and then try again 15 minutes later. I can't keep meals down sometimes.

I have sporadic but intense insomnia... or sometimes I'll jsut sleep for 16-20 hours. I'm lucky if I have enough time and brain cells to cook and do dishes.

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I won't say my life is in shambles, even if it feels that way. I struggle to imagine a future.
I'm not excited for a lot of things coming up.

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I know this doesn't excuse my lack of professionalism.
I know many millions of people have it much worse.
I know I've pissed people off, and I know apologies mean nothing without results. I'm still extremely sorry though, my time-blindness probably started the problem and my Anxiety ruined the rest.

I started Therapy last year, and I'm still working on finding medication that works, and a diagnosis to help improve my efforts to get better.

Some days it doesn't feel worth it because I don't believe anything will ever get better, so what's the point, let's once again contemplate the Last Big Disappointment.
I know I'm not the only one unable to Earn a Living - I know my worth isn't tied to my productivity... but Capitalism really makes me feel like I should stop wasting everyone's time and money once and for all.

But I know I have people who love me, and I know they want me around, so... I guess my only choice is to be miserable with a smile going forward?

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To quote something I saw last week: You can't hate yourself into becoming a better person.

I don't know how I'll ever not hate myself. But it has gotten out of hand. I do unfortunately react to being unhappy with the gut instinct that it's because I did something wrong (huzzah childhood trauma).

But yesterday I caught myself wiggle-dancing in the kitchen, the day before I Thriller Walked down the hallway whisper-chanting "Queen of Rats". Fleeting moments of happiness, but happiness nonetheless. Something seems to be healing. I don't like how long it's taking, but unfortunately recovery can't be rushed.

I'm sorry for the splash-damage my untreated (ADHD?) and Anxiety caused over the last ~decade.

I'll hopefully find the time and energy to take another stab at trying to get commissions finished this year.
But I'll also be drawing and possibly posting art I'm making for myself. I doubt it'll be up to my previous best quality but I'm trying to be less worried about it.

I need to enjoy creating art again if I'm going to be able to make art for other people.

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Sincerely; Thanks for sticking around, even if you're jsut mad at me.

Take care out there, tell your friends and family you love them, hydrate and don't forget your medication if possible.

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Also I took up crochet and I think that's helped me have a secondary outlet for creativity that has helped fuel my attempts to draw and accept some sloppiness/humanity in my work. I think it also helps me be grounded. I don't have much hope for a bright and happy future, but sometimes I hold onto the small joy that is a bright and happy vest (Dopamine go brrrrrr)... assuming I ever figure out Granny Squares.