Someone Was Grossly Misinformed…

My new motivational poster…

Earlier this week, I had a massive meltdown… And you know there will always be someone who tells you that things will get better if only you have faith in God and that he never gives you more than you can handle.

First of all, telling an atheist that if they have faith in what they feel is a fictitious being man made up to explain the unexplainable, you’re just going to get laughed at (which is what I did; I laughed). Second, if there is a God and he supposedly won’t give you more than you can handle, he was grossly misinformed about me or has way too much confidence in me and exactly how much I can handle…

George, you lucky fuck…

I sometimes wish I had a time machine… I know a lot of people say if they could go back in time and change things, they wouldn’t. But me… I would. One thing in particular, actually. But, if I did that, it would change the things about my current life that I’m actually happy with, so it’s quite the conundrum, isn’t it…? You can’t have it both ways…

Apparently, you need to go to one…

If I could go back and change one thing, I’d have gone to art school…

I wanted to be an animator so badly (like back when there was no computer animation yet) and I’d found the perfect school. It was all the way on the other side of the country (where I wanted to live anyway) and I was so excited! But that wasn’t in the cards for me… My older sister went to college and has a very successful career. Me? I went to work right out of high school to help my mother and her shiftless boyfriend pay bills. The shitty hand I’d always felt I’d been dealt had progressively gotten shittier and shittier…

There’s a card for that…

But I never gave up on my art. Hell, I would even doodle when I was at work if I had a few minutes of down time. I once worked in a factory and a coworker told me that they always knew which area I was in because there were doodles on the paper that covered the tables.

I was forever drawing… I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t drawing or painting or dong something artistic. It’s all I ever wanted to do with my life and I was always trying to improve my abilities.

But when you’ve lived in a small town of about 2,700 people (less back when I graduated high school) your whole life and never got to leave… Well, it’s not exactly the type of place where you can make something of yourself with your art, you know?

Thanks to The Brothers Johnson for the inspiration and title…

I put a lot of time and effort into my work, whether it’s digital or traditional. I work pitifully hard for days and long hours each day because I just love what I do.

I’ve had people ask me to do drawings for them, always followed by, “I’ll pay you…” Um, yes… you will… I don’t do shit for free, you know. So I accept the challenge, work my ass off and, when I’m finished, they tell me how much they love it. Then comes the subject of money… They ask how much, I never know what to say, so I tell them whatever they think is fair. The response I get from the customer: “How does $25 sound?”

The roaring 20s…

“How does $25 sound”… You want to know how $25 sounds?! It sounds like bullshit! I’ll work sometimes 12 to 16 hours a day for several days to finish a drawing! And you offer me $25?! Christ, I found make more by working less hours as a grocery store cashier! For real?! Do the math, people! That comes out to, at most, like $.35 an hour! Christ, people in sweat shops earn more! That’s fucking sad… But I always say okay because I need the money and also because I know the people who live here are poor and many of them have nothing more than a high school education. They’re not cultured people, so I suppose I shouldn’t expect much…

The work in progress…

I thought the internet would be helpful, but…

This was a work in progress (which I normally don’t show off) that I posted on Facebook. It’s a scene from my favorite anime, Kagaku Ninja Tai Gatchaman. At times, when I’m having an art block, I’ll draw some fan art just for shits and giggles to get the creative juices flowing again…

The finished product… 6 years old already! I can do better…

I was pretty proud of this one when I was done… I put so much time and work into this. I even colored the sky as it was in the episode (the screen shot only showed the blue part of the sky, not the sunset of the rest of the scene). Granted, this was 6 years ago and I can do better work now, but I still thought it was pretty damned good. So I posted it, hoping to get some likes on it. And, as always, I was disappointed… This work, the one I’d spent so much time and energy on, got all of one like, and it was by someone who likes all my drawings.

Twilight, My Little Pony, “Rescue At Midnight Castle”

At first I thought no one liked it because it was fan art, which is okay… But, at the same time, I also uploaded this drawing of Twilight (I’ve been a My Little Pony fan since day one, don’t judge) from the very first cartoon “Rescue At Midnight Castle“. I’ve drawn these ponies so much over the years, I can do it with my eyes closed… I just drew it to get those creative juices flowing. I didn’t expect to get more than the one like I usually get… but it got a shit ton! Seriously?! I drew this in minutes and took a few hours to color it and it gets so many likes, yet something I put an incredible effort into gets one?! Must be a lot of My Little Pony fans…

“Self Destruction”, another 6 year old drawing…

Even though it’s what I love most in this world and it’s the only thing I’ve ever done… I think it’s time to give up on my art. No more posting to Facebook, no more deviant art, no more anything. It’s just not worth it to continue to feel like such a failure. If my work isn’t good, whatever, it’s fine. But why keep torturing myself? I’m obviously not an artist, I’m just someone who doodles for, what, $.35 and hour? And those opportunities knock very seldom. So… I think I’m done. No more art. At this advanced age (no, I won’t tell you), if I have nothing to show for all these years, what’s the point? I don’t know how many years I have left. Time to get off my duff and start doing something to give meaning to my life…

When It All Comes Crashing Down…

Psychedelic…

About a week ago, I downloaded the album pictured on the left. I had it years ago on a cassette, but they always have more songs on a CD or digital album.

After jamming to the tunes that were on my cassette, I listened to the extra ones that were added. And I’m glad I did…

I found my new theme song. It’s called “Sour Suite“. It’s a very beautiful song. I love a song with piano music in it, especially if it’s pretty. But it was the lyrics that really caught my attention They describe how I’ve been feeling for quite some time, now. I hope the few readers I have take a listen. It’s really an excellent song.

Yes, it will…

Now, if you’ve been reading my blog, you know about some of the annoying bullshit I’ve been going through in my life. But there are some things I haven’t mentioned…

I’d been having issues with my antidepressant. Aside from the fact that my cholesterol went high after I started it (I can’t eat fats or cholesterol with no gallbladder, so it’s not that, but the shrink insists otherwise). But the cholesterol was only part of the problem. I gained about 30 pounds and was still gaining! I’ve always been extremely thin, so to be this heavy just made my depression worse. My current weight is the heaviest I’ve ever been and it seems that every time I put on the jeans I bought back in the spring, they’re tighter than last time.

Strangely, it never helped my knee pain…

All I’ve been doing is crying… I don’t even want to see myself naked (which is hard to do if I feel like showering).

Funny thing is, I learned that Cymbalta is in the same family as Effexor, one my shrink knew caused me a 30 pound weight gain I was unhappy about and he put me on it anyway! And when I complained about my weight gain, his response was that I looked fine to him! Yeah, well… baggy clothes help, but only so much when you look 5 months pregnant and have mammoth muffin top. He never even checked my weight to make sure it wasn’t getting too high. It took months of me telling him that I eat healthy and eat very little and I’m still gaining and how much I currently weigh before he finally agreed to do something.

Brain zaps… The most horrible feeling…

At first, I had my dose cut in half. What a fucking week that was… I never used to have issues weaning off antidepressants until I was on Effexor. After that, I couldn’t even be a few hours late for my dose or I’d get mild withdrawal starting. Well, weaning off Cymbalta is like being in your own personal hell… My emotions were so out of control. I was constantly screaming, crying, freaking out so bad even a hefty dose of Klonopin did nothing. I had physical pains, I felt nauseated all the time… And then there were the dreaded “brain zaps”… For those who have no idea what that is, I’ll explain it like I did to my mother. It’s a combo of dizziness and vertigo, and it feels as if someone shuffled across a carpet and directly touched your brain and gave you a static shock inside your head. Sounds delightful! Doesn’t it…

I’d like to smash them with a gavel…

I hear there were a lot of lawsuits against the company for not warning people of the effects of Cymbalta. I can see why…

In any case, the following week, I finally got him to switch me back to Lexapro. I had to take both for a week to help the withdrawal. Surprise, it didn’t help. I’ve been off the Cymbalta and on Lexapro a week now and I’m still having withdrawal. Some days I’m so sick I can’t eat, my emotions are still all over the place and I’m still getting “brain zaps”. I’m beginning to think I should file my own lawsuit. I was never informed of the bullshit effects of this med…

Eerily accurate…

Saturday, I was going on a day trip that I had been looking forward to for some time. But when I went to put on those jeans I bought about 9 months ago, I literally couldn’t close them. I almost lost my shit… The only reason I held it together was because I didn’t want the makeup I’d spent time putting on to run and because I didn’t want to spoil what I’d so looked forward to. I held it in until later, at which point I did lose it. I hate this; all of this…

Very true…

Back when I was in high school, when it wasn’t okay for a family member or yourself to have a mental illness, there were no meds (because of that way of thinking).

At one point, I was dating someone who was a pot smoker. I was very adamant about staying away from it, but one day I said “fuck it” and smoked some. For the first time in all those years, I was happy. I know a lot of people disagree, but for me, pot made it better. I was happy and mellow and was functioning. Thankfully, medical marijuana is legal where I live. I’m considering getting that card… Anything is better than these fucking antidepressants…

Not to sound like a bitch, but…

I know that people with mental illnesses have brains that work differently than people that don’t have a mental illness. But my brain works even more differently than others with mental illnesses…

I noticed my illness got so much worse (and was joined by other illnesses, wheee) after I lost my ovaries and was immediately thrown into menopause. That was 12 years ago… And, over the past 12 years, I’ve slowly gotten worse. It sometimes makes me wonder if that could be the reason why my antidepressants and anti-anxiety meds don’t help me as they help others. They have yet to find a combo that helps and doesn’t make me pack on 30 pounds or more… My life went downhill very fast after I lost my last ovary. Before that, things were finally looking up, but that one issue, that thing I had no control over, shot everything all to hell…

My latest digital work…

I’ve really been examining my life (such as it is) lately…

I’m middle-aged, I’m bipolar (along with the excessive anxiety and OCD), and I have absolutely nothing to show for my life.

I always thought I was a pretty good artist… The drawing to the left is one I finished yesterday after spending several days (all day) working on it. I think it’s rather pretty… Yet it gets no recognition, like all my other work. It makes me feel like a huge failure. Art is all I’ve ever been good at, all I ever cared about. And now I feel as though I should just give up all hope. Maybe I’ll continue to draw for myself, but I think this will be the last drawing I share with anyone since no one seems to give too hoots and a rat’s happy ass about my work anyway. Maybe I’ll just lead a boring life until I leave this world…