I haven’t seen Kay yet. She came back sometime after I left for my appointment but was gone again before I went to work. I guess I’ll see what happens in a little while.
I’m not as distraught as I was before. I realized that not only had I not left the apartment yesterday, I forgot to eat dinner, so I was already not at my emotional best and her silence combined with her absence definitely caused my paranoia to skyrocket. I’m calmer about it now. I’m going to ride it out and see how it plays out. I was thinking about if I could get a higher paying part time job, I could still do the freelance and maaaaybe swing paying for her half of the rent myself, if my mother will agree to pay for my groceries every once in a while.
I did my taxes today and I’m getting a very small refund, but I decided to put it into an “emergency move out” fund. I also decided to only buy coffee on tuesdays and put the rest of that money towards the fund. I need to be ready if she pulls the plug.
Let’s hope she comes home tonight so we can talk. I guess I’ll test the waters with “Hi” and “how are you?” That’s all I can do at this point. :\
Well. It’s 1:30 in the morning and Kay’s not back yet, which makes me think she’s staying in east bay tonight because the last BART is at midnight. Or who knows?
Should I text her? What if something’s happened to her? What if she stays away the whole weekend?
There’s a huge pile of clothes on her bed, does that mean she’d been packing? Her toothbrush is still there.
So much for talking to her tonight. I should be enjoying the apartment all to myself. Instead I can’t stop worrying that she’s staying away to avoid me.
I guess I won’t text her. If she’s staying over Van’s then I’ll be waking her up. If she’s in the city then she could be out still. But I want to text her because I’m anxious. Maybe I’ll just ask her if she’s coming home tonight? If it wakes her up serves her right for not saying something.
I had thought to talk to my roommate about what’s going on, but I didn’t see her all of yesterday and I just found out that she’s at out with our former roommate at a concert. I only know this because our former roommate posted about it on facebook.
Which means who knows when she’ll be back.
I made the mistake of calling my mother. I cried on the phone to her as I told her what she was going on. I told her I was worried that she was going to try to move out and then I’d be screwed. We’d all have to move. A studio in the city goes for $2000 now.
She said, “Well, you have to talk to her” and “You can move back home” and “I don’t know what you want me to do” and “You’re making yourself upset” and “I wouldn’t have let it get this bad.”
She never listens to me. She never understands what I’m saying. I just told her how I can’t talk to someone who isn’t there. I told her I’d been trying to coax her out for the past few weeks. And then she blames me. It’s obviously my fault that Kay isn’t talking to me.
Thanks for all the sympathy mom. I even called her out on it. I said, “you don’t have any sympathy for me do you?” and I don’t even know what she thought I said because her answer was “Well, what do you want me to do?”
I wanted some sympathy, that’s really all I wanted. I wanted to go to my mother and have her comfort me and instead I got your feelings aren’t valid and it’s your fault anyway. I wanted you to know that I was having a hard time because I thought you’d want to know that someone who you supposedly love is hurting emotionally.
I don’t fucking have anyone. I don’t have anyone who loves me. I am so sad and lonely. I’m so sick of struggling.
More crying today. At my desk. On the walk to work. At work. After work in the back room. During dinner.
My emotions go to extremes from minute to minute. My mental health is not good right now. I am in a very bad place.
Found out the freelance guy hired another illustrator so it’s only a matter of time before he stops offering me work. The new girl is so much more experienced and a batter drawer than me.
I keep reminding myself that I’m an animator too so even if the design work dries up, I’ll have that for a little while.
I tried to think that maybe I could learn from her before I get the ax. But this made me very afraid. I looked for jobs last week and there were literally none in my area. Not even a “we’re not hiring but always looking”. Jobs are grim, scarce.
I’m going to sob at my therapy tomorrow. I have to remember to bring my own Kleenex because I’ll feel bad if I use all if hers.
I try not to get upset but then my stomach clenches and I shake despite what I am telling myself, that it’s fine, no big deal, but my body betrays me every time. I’m so tired of all of this I wish I could sleep for a hundred years.
I don’t know what to do. my roommate came back this evening around 9pm. She came in our room, I said “hi” to her and she said hi back and then she grabbed her things and took a shower.
My stomach started hurting again because I got the sense that she is mad at me still.
Then she came back and crawled into her bed.
So I asked her if she was going to sleep and she mumbled something, so as I was turning off the overhead light and switching on a smaller one I said, “is that a yes?” and she said “I’m reading” (on her kindle).
So then I asked her if everything was okay and she said, “yeah.” And now it’s just this awful silence. I get that she’s reading but this is not how it used to be. She used to ask me how I am and it used to be comfortable and now all I can feel is this terrible anxiety when she’s here, in my stomach.
I went into the living room for a few minutes to put a few things away and decided to sit on the couch, just to see if I could calm myself. But then my mind wandered and I started thinking about my Dad and I cried a little and I realized that this feeling that I have right now that she’s making me feel is how I used to feel when my father would come home in a bad mood and we had to be silent lest we wake the volcano.
I wanted to say, “Are you sure everything is ok because it doesn’t seem like it.” but I am afraid like how I used to be afraid of angering my dad. She gets mad for such stupid reasons and I cannot stand the silent treatment.
She’s not going to say anything else to me tonight. I probably won’t talk to her until tomorrow night, when she comes home late after work when she won’t share with me where she’s been or how she is or ask about me and when I ask her, she’ll stick to her one word answers like she has been for weeks.
It’s been a stressful two days. Completing three new art pieces in five days plus ready the rest of the portfolio has been daunting.
But the thing that weights heavy in my mind is the situation with my roommate Kay. For weeks now she’s been avoiding me. I noticed it weeks ago when she went to a movie by herself. She did not invite me and when she got back she didn’t say a word about it.
Now she won’t speak to me unless I say something first.
If I talk to her she’ll have a short polite conversation with me. But if I don’t say anything she won’t even say hello when she enters our shared bedroom.
I get the sense that she’s mad at me for something or else she thinks she’s better than me now that she’s working full time.
Her silence is an indicator that she’s mad. She’s 100% passive aggressive. When she felt her ex wanted to spend too much time with her, instead of saying something, she got irritated with him and then avoided him for weeks.
She’s doing the exact same thing to me, except we live together so she can’t avoid me completely. She goes out, doesn’t say a word, not even a quick “bye” and when she comes back she literally walks past me, gets ready for bed and goes to sleep. Not one word.
I don’t know what to do. If she’s mad, I don’t know how to handle it, if she’s not mad and I act like she is then she will get mad.
She gets mad so easily I never know what I’ve said that set her off.
My childish response is to make plans after work to avoid being home alone or sitting in silence with her.
Today was awful. I’m lying in bed now, I can say this with authority.
I don’t want to count the ways in which it was terrible but at every turn something went wrong.
The day ended with my roommate acting snippy at me (after which she crawled into bed with all the lights on and threw the covers over her head rather than talk to me to say she was going to bed and wanted the lights off) and my making myself throw up in the bathroom. That actually was a highlight, got this awesome sense of euphoria even though I know I’ll be in pain tomorrow.
Something really needs to change for me.
I tried talking to my mother about it but instead we got into a fight. She thinks that when I try to talk about my emotional problems I’m saying she’s a bad mother, which I’m not saying that at all. And then she went on to say that she was a good mother I was just “bad”. Of course what she means by bad is that I didn’t do every little thing she asked and I talked back to her when I felt angry. I never caused her one second of real trouble.
I just need someone to support me. It’s really hard fighting battles all by yourself, I feel so alone. No one cares about me except me and even I’m having a hard time giving a shit.
Today has been a trial, a long, multi-part trial. You already saw my rant from this morning and it only escalated from there. I’m just trying really hard to ignore all the anger and let it go so I can be both productive and not make my heart attack me.
I just spilled water all over every important electronic I own.
All over my wacom tablet, my iphone, ipad and ipod, a drawing of Thor which had to be thrown away, all over my earbuds, usb/lightning cords, a gorgeous kid’s book, my dad’s watch, even my tax documents got wet from a stupid glass of water that was not even half full tumbling at exactly the wrong angle.
And i’m swearing and frantically trying to wipe water up, trying to figure out what gets saved first and my roommate just lays in bed reading her iphone. I’m like jesus christ you couldn’t have at least grabbed me some paper towels?
I’m really worried. I’ve been having heart palpitations for several days now.
It doesn’t hurt but then I worry that maybe it does. I’m hoping it’s just stress. I went out and bought food with omega 3 and a ton of liqueur, red wine and whiskey. I figure I need to self medicate to calm myself down. Alcohol is the only medication I have to anesthetize my brain. I don’t even like drinking so I’m not too worried about trying it out for a few days.
I’ve tried drinking more water and now I’m about to sleep with my legs elevated. I’m so worried about what that means and why I can suddenly feel my heart beating when I didn’t notice it before.
Online says it’s most likely nothing serious but that I should go to the doctor. But with no health insurance I’m not sure where I can go that won’t cost me my rent money. I don’t want to go unless it’s an emergency.
You ever watch Girl, Interrupted? There was that girl Polly aka “Torch” whose face was burned severely. Do you remember that scene where she sees Suzanna and a boy making out and then that night she remembers how severely scarred she is and wakes up sobbing and screaming uncontrollably because she will never be loved?
That always stood out to me because that’s kind of how I feel about myself and my depression/anxiety/loneliness. Most days I pretend, forget or ignore it, but then Valentine’s day comes around or some other such love-display and this despair just crushes me.
I uploaded a whole bunch of concepts to the database for the guy I’m freelancing for and he wrote me a very ambiguous “Hey, let’s talk” email which has filled me with all kinds of anxiety because that means he didn’t like them. If he did like them, he would have said so. There’s nothing I can do about it now. I just hope that it’s not too bad. He gave us very little direction, so I guess it can’t be helped.
I’m trying not to get too stressed about it and remind myself that stuff like this happens ALL THE TIME. Nobody can like everything that I do. That’s just not possible. Art school was all about critique, critique, critique. Everyone tore your stuff up all the time.
I just worry that he’s not going to like this and then he’s not going to like the next thing and then he’s going to end my contract. Freelancing is all about pleasing people. Please people is so hard to do.
I’m trying not to think about it but I can’t seem to stop. :/
I know it’s wasted energy, focusing on this. I won’t know what he thinks until I talk to him. It might not even be that bad. Or maybe I’ll have to start over from scratch. I don’t know. That’s it, I just can’t know until sometime tomorrow.
This is exactly the kind of thing that makes me panic for a full time job. Someone wouldn’t fire me over this.
If I could just make some freaking money I wouldn’t have to fear about every negative comment.
I don’t think about my future anymore. I used to day dream about it, what I’d be doing, where I’d be working. Now it’s just too bleak to imagine. When I think about ten years from now, I imagine myself destitute. Or just not alive. I just don’t see how someone like me is going to make it. The other day I had this macabre thought about how I should start cleaning out my stuff now and making contingency planes for the moment I keel over dead unexpectedly like my dad did.
Sometimes I wonder if he had a life online, are there people we didn’t know about who wonder about him and where he’s gone, not knowing that he’s dead? He did travel a lot. He spent all his time on the computer or in front of the tv.
I’ve been thinking so much about him lately, about how he’s dead. I just can’t seem to get over that fact. It’s weird. He died two years ago and for some reason the last few weeks, it’s just on my mind. I’m walking in the hall in my apartment, My dad died, I’m eating yogurt, Dadwould have liked this but he’s dead, I’m cooking eggs, Dad made great eggs but not anymore.
Sorry if I keep talking about him. I know it’s depressing and awful and who wants to read about that, but I think I’m going to have to talk about him for a little while yet. He’s somehow tangled up in my job woes, in my sad, pathetic practically non existent little career. Dad was kind of proud of me, but it was in that way that you’re proud of a five year old for making you dinner It’s the best she could do, she tried. My parents were shocked that I could anything at all, that I could function as a human being without their constant. They have such a low opinion of me and my abilities that they were surprised I could order a soda on my own (Yes, this is an actual example my mother relayed to me that my father said when I told them I was moving to Cali to go to grad school— they did not think I would do it).
Sometimes it feels like my unresolved issues with my dad are the root of everything. He was such an overbearing influence in my life, everything had to be for him, that I am still discovering things I did and quirks I have that were solely to please him.
It’s been raining pretty steadily here for the last few days. It’s good I guess because we need the rain, being in a drought and all. But it sets a depressive kind of mood. Everything is dark and wet and no one wants to leave the apartment.
My roommate has been laying in bed all morning and it makes it difficult to get things done. I’m not sure if I can make noise or not. It’s after noon, so I’m going to get on with things that I have to do around the room. It’s my room too.
I’ve been restless and indecisive more and more lately. There are a million things I need to do, but I only have so much inclination. I think I will feel a bit better about things once I make my list and start tackling them.
I don’t know about you but I can’t seem to move on with my tasks if I feel like my space is a mess. I’m not exactly a neat person, but right now, even though there are other pressing things to do, I know I need to take an hour and straighten things up before I will get any kind of productive work done.
Sometimes I wonder if this habit is anxiety or if it’s a quirk related to me. It’s probably something to do with control anyway.
Last night I dreamed that my Dad hadn’t actually died, or that he was back or something. I remember feeling so confused and not understanding how we were going to explain to everybody, myself included, that he was alive. I remember seeing him around the house as he was before he got entrenched with multiple illnesses.
I’ve dreamed this once before but I’ve been thinking about it all day, like all day I’m remembering my Dad from the dream as if was a thing that really happened and I have to keep reminding myself, No, that’s not a memory. That was from your dream.
can we just collectively agree as a generation that we aren’t going to care if each other’s houses are clean when we visit bc im gettin real sick of the “the house has to be spotless or our guests will judge us” deal my parents got goin on
none of us in this generation is going to be able to afford a house.
After dieting very strictly since January, I’ve finally dropped some weight. Rather, quickly— in 10 days I lost 7 pounds after not having lost any at all for all this time. I think it must be water weight. I did think that my pants were fitting a bit better.
I don’t know what did it. Last week I noticed my moods being horribly out of whack and I thought that maybe I should just eat whatever I wanted for a few days since food is my method of self comfort. I added some chocolate back into my diet, just a little bit and I allowed myself to have a croissant last week and again this week, which were two things I told myself “no way” after the 1st of the year.
And then as you know this week I had a massive panic attack. My body still feels jittery from it and I thought that stress makes you hold onto weight, but I just weighed myself and the scale says I lost 7 pounds. Maybe my roommate messed with the scale. It’s technically her scale, maybe she adjusted it?
I don’t know. I’m just happy I didn’t gain any weight from all the stress and the sweets I’ve been eating. It’s important to me that I lose weight.
My anxiety has moved up to my chest and it’s really freaking me out. I’m so stressed out about money that even though I know i need to eat something before I go to work, I’ve completely lost my appetite which is great because it turns out I can’t afford food right now anyway. I guess that’s also good because I wanted to lose weight. So, always a silver lining, even when your own poverty comes up to punch you in the face.
Not having a full time job is the most stressful thing in the entire world. No one can convince me otherwise. Every single thing revolves around money. The way US capitalistic society is set up is totally centered around the 40+ hour a week, full time job with benefits lifestyle and makes no concessions for anyone who is outside this, even if they don’t want to be. I hate freelancing. I hate working part time.
I want that 40+ full time lifestyle but I can’t seem to get it. And living outside this system is no good for someone like me who has an anxiety disorder.
Having kind of a freak out. I can’t seem to find something to distract me and i’m going from i’mfinei’mfinei’mfine to sobbing. Something broke in me this morning and it needs to be fixed in the next 15 minutes.
I felt a bit better yesterday but I’m laying in bed now and I just don’t want to get up. I am filled with such dread. Dread over what I don’t know.
I wish I could pause the day and just lay here for a few more hours.
My heart is heavy. I don’t know what to do. I feel abandoned by my happiness. I have no commiserator, no confident and it weighs on me. It is hard to live when no one loves you, when you fill your life with distractions and obsessions. When your resolve breaks, these things can’t comfort you.
All I can do is hope something will distract me today.
Another miserable day. I was brought to tears several times today and I’ve been so overwrought and generally angry, like anger that’s so deep I don’t even realize I’m seething mad until I snap.
Today I did something really nasty to someone and I don’t really know why other than she made me so mad I wanted to call her out on it. This girl lied about something and I just knew she was lying and people were praising her and I just saw red. I flat out said I was skeptical and I demanded that she prove her claims.
She basically told me off and said she didn’t have to prove herself, and she’s right. I shouldn’t have demanded proof. She does not have to prove anything to me.
But she IS flat out lying. I am 100% right. It’s painfully obvious to those who know about the thing she’s claiming to have done.
I mean, it would be like if she claimed she wrote Cinderella, like, an original story by her, completely made up from her imagination.
Normally, I would have had a flash of anger over her lie and then move on silently. But I fixated on it and couldn’t let it go.
I will not press the issue further although I want to tell her, “I may be rude but at least I’m not dishonest.” I really want to say that, but I know that is just awful, so I’m keeping my mouth shut.
What is wrong with me? Why am I so angry? My emotions have been trending down since Christmas. I’m really worried that I’m gonna get stuck here again.
I have found little joy in recent weeks, only single disconnected moments of happiness in a greater fog of gloom.
Something kind of unsettling happened here at work today.
This man comes into the store. He’s loud and looking around. He’s not dressed out of the ordinary or anything that would set off a red flag right way. It becomes clear that he’s going to be high maintenance and I’m trying to be nice to him despite the fact that I’m receiving books and helping other customers too.
He kept trying to have “private” conversations with me, whispering and gesturing for me to come closer so he could speak softly and not be overheard by others in the store.
He asks me if we have any books on black history because it’s Martin Luther King Jr. Day. We are a specialized store and only have one kid’s book on the subject. He then asks me if he can “borrow the book” and bring it back tomorrow to which I obviously said, “No way.”
I told him if he wanted to borrow a book he should go to the library and I wrote down the ISBN and title for him so he could find it there. He said he understood but then he wanted to sit and read the book, only he didn’t want to sit in the two seats we have for adults because they were near the door and people would see him. Instead he grabbed a kid’s stool from the kid’s section and positioned it in front of a book display where he’d be hidden from most people. While sitting there he kept asking me over and over if he could “borrow” the book, please, please, please.
He then asked me where he could go if he wanted to be away from people that he didn’t want to be around. He asked me where would I go and I said, “I’d go home” and he laughed and said he wasn’t from around here and then pressed me again for answers and I told him to go for a walk, to which he laughed again. He then kept talking about it being MLK Jr day and talking about how he was black man and then talked about getting away from people he didn’t want to be around, which in that context made it sound like he’d been prejudiced against because of his race and wanted to be away from people. I know he was trying to play on my “white guilt” because he’s a black man and I’m a white woman and he knew asking if he could take the book without paying for it was wrong but he wanted to remind me that he’s frequently wronged and misjudged, so it’s all okay.
I was getting more and more uncomfortable but wasn’t sure how to get him out of the store. I was afraid that if I asked him to leave he’d say I was racist or that he’d make a scene because he was already kind of making a scene.
Thankfully my co-worker was still there so I was not by myself. She wrote me a note, Should I go next door and get Michael to come over? He’s a nice guy who works next door, not that I thought Michael could do anything for us. I said out loud, “Well, maybe in five minutes” and the guy got upset saying “Are the cops coming? Did you call the cops?” My co-worker lied and said that our boss was coming in five minutes, which was obviously not the truth. We explained that we were very busy and that he was distracting us, which was true. We still had give boxes to receive and unpack and I felt like he was going to try to run off with the book.
Then as I’m trying to ring other customers while trying not to be rude to both him and my current customer, my coworker saw that the security guard from the clothing store next door was taking his break right outside our store and asked she asked the guard if he would mind just walking into the store which might be enough to scare the guy off. The security guard was super nice and came in and addressed the guy who said “You’re not a real cop if you don’t have a gun. You’re not a real cop,” but the guy went with the guard because “he was black, too” he explained on his way out.
I’m still unsettled about this whole thing. I don’t know what I would have done if he’d come in a hour later when I would be by myself (like I am right now). He sort of implied that it would be racist if I asked him to leave, but he obviously knew he was making us both uncomfortable because his behavior was abnormal behavior.
It wasn’t a big deal, nothing really happened, but the situation made me uncomfortable. My anxiety is really high right now, I feel really jittery. I don’t know what I should have done. Should I have called the police? That seems extreme. He didn’t do anything wrong. But what should I do next time? I work alone every day. I’m a young woman working alone at night four days a week.
I just signed up for this challenge and I thought I would share it with you guys.
I’m using my own hashtag to keep it private. I don’t need anyone in my real life knowing I’m doing this because I do not want to talk about it with them. Because I’m doing this to ward off depression and change my negative thinking into positive thinking and that’s a bit too personal for everyday interactions.
But I thought maybe you guys following me here might enjoy a challenge like this.
Basically, you acknowledge one thing that made you happy during the day and submit a picture of it. You’re supposed to submit one photo every day for 100 days. If you complete the challenge, they’ll send you a booklet with all your photos in the mail.
Here goes nothing. My happy moment today was being home alone and singing in the shower. :)
“There is no designated time for anything in your life. You don’t have to have your first kiss at any certain time, you don’t have to get married in your 20′s and you don’t have to do anything just because other people think it’s best. In fact, you will be much better off if you just do what your heart says. The day you stop caring what other people think is the day their opinions don’t mean anything, because you’re not there to give them weight.”—(via theglasschild)
I have been OUT of it lately. This morning I popped into Target to get breakfast (yogurt and a banana, yo) and on my way out I spied this wall of Christmas candy that was reduced and I thought, Oh, because Christmas is coming… and I had to pause, NO WAIT it’s already happened. O_o!
It’s 2014. Already. I’m trying to be optimistic, but I’m down to just my sucky retail job. I have a goal of applying for a fellowship next month, but I am dragging my feet on being any kind of productive. Lately, I’ve been crawling into bed at 10:30 and sleeping in until 9 am and then just laying there for another two hours, playing on my phone. Good thing I work nights mostly.
I have good intentions, but I worry that I might be slipping backward into depression. The thing is you never know if it’s just going to be for a day or two or if it’s going to be Depression with a capital D.
I have a lot I want to do in the New Year.
I want to lose a drastic amount of weight. I want to hit that mythic weight number I’ve always dreamed of but have never quite hit. The older I get the less probably it will happen. My diet is really hard. I know that once my body gets used to eating less, I’ll be able to feel full with less food. But right now I’m hungry all the time.
I had this epiphany on the bus today. I felt this vague ache of hunger and I thought about how, to my body, sometimes hunger feels like what anxiety feels like and how sometimes I honestly can’t tell if I’m super hungry or just extremely anxious. Because I feel anxious every single day of my life and I get hungry everyday too, so sometimes it is hard to tell. Trouble is, sometimes they’re simultaneous, so I’ll eat and feel a little bit better but then I still have “that feeling” so I’ll eat more. And then I thought that maybe the reason I was an obese child was because my anxiety kicked in (the worst year of my life was also the year I got really, really fat) and I thought I was hungry or that sometimes I was hungry and food quelled that ache, so I ate to make myself feel better. I almost missed my stop because I was so stunned that I’d just put that together today.
I mean, I know I’m also an emotional eater and use food as a reward, but I wonder if my anxiety made it worse?
Other things— I want to conquer drawing. I want to crazy improve. I’ve been so lax lately with my “drawing every day” and it’s because I’m so tired and so indifferent to doing anything that I just have not been good about it. I’m not going to stress about it yet, though. I’m going to give myself another week or so to really get my feet underneath me. I hope I start to feel better because I was most successful at night. I do want to start giving myself specific tasks.
I also want to start to build up my online presence under my “real name”. I have a modest but still pretty darn good following of people under my fanart name and I do a lot of work for fandom. I realized that if I had put my time and energy into doing portfolio pieces instead, I might have a bigger audience and maybe even a job.
The thing is, fandom is like crack, it really is. I posted my “Thor” drawing yesterday in the morning for the start of Thor week, and when I went to bed I had 300 notes on it. Modest, but still— in one day I had 300 people went “ohhh, cool!” which is an enormous response for someone like me.
I so rarely get positive feedback in my real life, so naturally I want and crave it wherever I can get it. But fandom can be thankless too. I’ve given countless hours and creativity to this wanting, gaping hole that is fandom and very rarely get anything in return. It can be terribly silent too.
So, I’m going to scale back on the fanart this year. I think maybe for every drawing I do for fandom, I’ll be doing something that’s working towards my portfolio too. I want to get a 50/50 blend going. I think that’s fair.
I’m trying to take a page out of Tom Hiddleston’s book, who’s “a glass half full” kind of guy, and think about what could make me happy or excited instead of thinking about what makes me worried or upset.
I was leaving my mother’s house yesterday and feeling blue. So I tried to think of something to look forward to instead, tried to find one thing about leaving or returning back to Cali that was exciting. I couldn’t think of anything specific but I realized that I wanted to get back because I like the promise of new year, of starting over and I wanted to start with my resolutions.
So 2014 started out pretty good.
The flight was uneventful. My bag was one of the first off the plane! That made me very happy. Getting a cab was super easy and I was at my apartment an hour and a half before I had to leave for work.
When I got upstairs, Kay had been cooking and offered me lunch and she’d brought in the mail which had my paycheck from a gig I did in November!
Work was easy and Kay had gone out when I returned which gave me time to myself to unwind.
These are stupid small things, but I take them as starting 2014 on a good note.
The end of the current year always makes me reflect on where I am in my life and what I did (or didn’t do) during the year.
Here, I’m going to focus on my accomplishments, the things I did in 2013.
I started to say “yes” to things.
So I said “yes” to doing camera layout work, even though I’d never done it and didn’t really want to. And that got me layout experience, though I worked essentially for free.
Because I did the layout, I was able to ask for animation work next at the same company. And even though that was for free, too, I have some animation experience now.
Then I got an internship for the summer— paid, and really cool experiences in both print books and concept art for games.
That led to a few weeks of paid contract work and because of the connections I made at the internship, I got another gig doing art asset design work.
I also stumbled upon animation contract work for a game that’s going to carry over into 2014.
These aren’t very big accomplishments, but this is a lot more than I did in 2012.
I want 2014 to be even better. I’m afraid to write it because I don’t want to set up my expectations. I don’t want to be devastated if I fail.
in 2014 I hope to get more better paying, art jobs, try for that design fellowship, find a new part time job and quit the bookstore. Personally I want to really push the drawing thing and get from passable to really good by next December. I also want to finally shed this extra weight and I want to start dating again. I’m not going to say “get a boyfriend” but I think setting the goal of going out more and practicing talking to guys is something. I’d also like to find time to read actual novels instead of art books or instructional books.
I want to work on so many things. But mostly, I want to move forward. I do not want to stagnate or regress.
I wish you guys luck with your wishes for the upcoming year.
So Christmas is here again. I’m glad I was able to make it home. But even here on the day i find the Christmas spirit eludes me.
We opened gifts and I tried to muster some enthusiasm, and when I couldn’t I blamed jet lag and lack of sleep (which is not exactly a lie since I only got about 4 hours sleep last night).
I did find some excitement when they opened their gifts from me but I feel ashamed that I could not return the favor.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I just don’t have it in me this year.
My mother tried hard, gets an A for effort, but she didn’t ask me what I wanted or needed this year, so I got nothing I wanted or needed.
I feel so bad because my mother loves me so much and wanted to do good, but she knows I’m not happy. She doesn’t realize it’s really not anything to do with her, but she thinks it is because none of the clothes she bought me fits. I means, I’m not thrilled to be reminded of how overweight I am on Christmas morning but this sense of weariness has clung to me for a while.
I told her I loved everything and they were all beautiful and really nice. But I don’t think she believed it. And I feel bad that I could not lie more convincingly for her.
I’m a bit depressed I think. I dunno. Ever since that stupid blind date debacle I’ve felt off. I hope as the day goes on I can shake these blues.