Ugh, I Hate Myself
I didn’t draw something like I said I was going to. I said I was going to illustrate a piece and post it on Sunday. It’s Wednesday now and I still haven’t posted anything. I wasn’t even going to write a blog. I’m 43-ish words into this and I’m not sure if this will end up as a finished piece. It makes me wonder if I really want this. Not in a healthy curious way, but in a way that I end up tearing myself apart. I woke up in the afternoon to a woman covered in white lace beating me with her tied up arms. She let out a muffled cry for help. I haven’t had a sleep paralysis episode in a long time and now here it is in full swing.
The self-loathing is real, and deep, and embarrassing. I get called out on my self-critical and perfectionist nature all the time. It’s always in a joking way, and I can laugh along with it, but it’s obvious that everyone can notice how horrible I treat myself. I get into a loop of telling myself ridiculous things like how I’m not good enough, I’ll never be good enough. Everyone is lying to me. I’m not smart. I’m not attractive. I’m fat. My teeth are ugly. My smile is ugly. The only thing that gives me worth as a person is if I’m attractive, and I’m not so I’m not worthy. I’m boring. I have nothing to say, or contribute to conversations. I have nothing to offer other people. I’m stupid. I’m stupid for trying to pursue art because there are so many better artists out there. My voice doesn’t matter. I’m unlovable. I’m annoying. I’m a leech. I’m a bad person. It goes on and on, the list just expands and repeats.
The logical part of me knows that all of that is untrue, but the logical part of me isn’t in the driver seat. I’m still unsure on how I can get myself out of it. I think writing through it, like I am right now, may help, but the process is dreadful.
I think I kept avoiding art because my attitude is: “do something great or don’t do it at all”. The past few days I just haven’t had the energy to go at something with full force. So, I’m just not going to do anything at all. I’m just going sit here and stagnate. Great plan, Blanca. Everything about my thinking is illogical right now. It brings me down and takes all the creativity down with it.
I hate the romanticizing of depression and the “tortured artist”. I was there once, thinking that the only way to produce anything was to really feed the pain and fight off any help or hope. That is not how creativity works at all. A creative needs to be healthy and in working order to bear fruit. I need to forgive myself for not sticking to my plan and not expect the next piece to be a masterpiece. Just gotta move forward.