The Point of It All

Drawing used to just be a part of fantasizing, that’s how I farted out so many sketches in colour and everything back in the day. Imagining scenes and stuff about the characters while I was drawing them. I focus way too much on making things look good and accurate now. It’s not fun. It’s become, not about fantasizing, but about DRAWING, like, the technique. Technique is fun but not what makes me want to draw.

What can I do to let go of technique and just sketch concepts again… for the fun of it, not to show off to anyone. How to let go of the stuff that makes me not wanna draw. It used to be so much fun, man. Like imagination-meditation!

Computers full of alternative entertainment definitely makes it trickier to focus. Maybe if I just didn’t turn on the computer and drew instead for half an hour a day, with music plugged into my ears, I’d get back into it?

It’s definitely worth a shot now and again.

End of my online dating; Stepping out into the Real World

I think I'm going to quit online dating.

Essentially, my experiences of online dating is that it's very methodical and boring. I skim profile after profile. Non attractive ones and fairly attractive ones, including both the categories of looks and/or personality. My best end-game is always that I meet up with someone that I "kind of" like; more like, could imagine enjoying my time with well enough. Then, I grow to slowly, slowly and unfairly despise them because I know there really isn't anything there for me. I'm just settling, again, or trying to.

Why? First, just because of the off chance that I might be jumping to a bad, unfair conclusion based on some "unrealistic standard". Second, because I feel as if I'm telling them they're not good enough for the likes of me. The second is almost as untrue as it is true; it's not that they're not good enough for the likes of me, for I'm definitely not some unattainable figure... but the true bit is just that they are just that, not good enough. I always know at the back of my head that I'm going out of my way not to be bored in their presence, and I'm simply working to entertain myself while I wait for them to become interesting people. Against all odds, they never become more interesting. Can you read the sarcasm, by the way?

"So picky" my mum comments calmly when I told her last night I think I finally found the words for why me and the dude from my last four dates are not gonna work out for me, and had relayed them to her. Although while mum carries on listening to me and baking saffron-buns, she also agrees that "Of course there must be some kind of attraction, otherwise it's certainly not for you". Sometimes her demeanour still confuses me. She can be a tough person to read, my mum.

"I can't just settle again, like I did with my three previous relationships. It will be another Starguy* story." I say.

*Starguy would be my third boyfriend. Obviously, I don't wanna label with real names here. I'll nickname him Starguy because he was really, really into stars and space; as far as making it his major in university. My initial attraction for him was his passion for it. We didn't work out because I felt alone in his company, if that makes sense. And he wasn't a very humoristic kind of fellow, which is always a dealbreaker for me.

"Sure, that's understandable" my mum says... in a very calm, shrugging sort of tone. This makes me feel defensive. It's like someone telling you 'fine, have it your way'.
Oi, no, don't give me that whatevering! Just say it, whatever it is. Gee wiz.

So what is considered giving it a fair chance then? My biggest concern when it comes to dating is to remain fair and honest to the man, no matter how much or little I think of him. I never want to give mixed signals. Since I don't always know what I can expect myself to feel, I always worry about these signals. I feel deceiving if I send yes-signals. I feel unfair if I send no-signals. I feel like a jerk sending maybe?-signals.

Deep down I do know right away if it's a dud. This is why I think I'm gonna call it quits with online dating. I don't want to scan profiles of people describing themselves, talk to them a bit and -then- see if there's any feelings to begin with.

Now that I'm braver, have more energy and confidence, I think I can go outside and meet people face to face. It's the only place - face to face - where I've felt certain that I'm attracted or not attracted to someone. It's the place where I can be true to them and true to myself.

To be honest, I'm quite happy about this conclusion. I used to escape the outside world, and now I'm eager to explore it. I didn't want to meet people, no encounters, no conversations, but now I'm happy to. I stayed up all night recently just googling places I could potentially explore in Stockholm; cafés, sure, bars but also nightclubs. Nightclubs! Me! True, it's not the average sort, but those nightclubs that have special nights when they play only old soul-music that I would love to dance to, latino, 90's, old disco, all that sorta stuff. But I'm psyched by just the idea of wanting to try it; actually wanting to, not forcing myself to.

The world is suddenly an exciting place to be in. I can't seem to get over that.

Awakening

I woke up about a month ago and I wasn't tired, which made me very excited. Since then, life has been finally been going in more of an upwards curve rather than a downwards spiral; a spiral built upon failure after burn-out causing another failure, etc, all because I am always tired and low key, low energy, always have been.

One of the major reasons I have always had a low energy level is because I was born with hypothyroidism, which basically means that your thyroid is ineffective or completely dysfunctional. It's just kaput! As I've had it explained to me as a kid, what the thyroid does is to handle the nutrition stuff in your body; I'm not very good at explaining this stuff because, as much as I do enjoy the concept of biology, I suck at it... unless you really dumb it down for me. (Seriously, there are too many Latin words!)

This is how Wikipedia lists the symptoms anyway:

	I have mostly experienced the fatigue, feeling cold, poor memory and concentration, poor appetite, heavy menstrual periods (and later the light ones too)... then there are a bunch of things in that list I'm not sure, it depends on what is normal and what isn't, which would be hard for me to determine. So for as long I can remember (and as long as my parents can remember of me too), I have always been tired, physically slow, distant, having struggles with school because of my lack of concentration and memory (Plus the common problem with school favouring very specific ways of human learning. I imagine people who learn with more visual and physical elements, not reading, know what I'm talking about.) and as you might imagine, it gets very old. It gets especially old when you have finally finished basic school, high school and you finally get to choose what to educate yourself in, which in my case was art. But I nearly failed the two art-educations I took, each of them a year long and with very understanding, forgiving teachers and other staff. I was fortunate enough that these people who worked in those educations believed me when I communicated my struggles, and they were often willing to help me find a compromise so that I could pass. They could tell that I cared and was frustrated with myself. Even with all that support, it was always a close call. After one or two months of enthusiasm and dedication, I was completely depleted; I would start oversleeping, skipping more and more classes, which would then lead to me being too ashamed to show up for several days a week. I thought I could read judgement in the faces of my classmates and teachers who were not aware of what was going on with me, and at the time, I cared very much about what they thought. All those struggles with school also applied whenever I got an internship in some working-place - only with less understanding and more humiliation. (Like being yelled at by your boss in the lunch-room in front of your co-workers. Not a good story.) #UnitedInterns #TheStruggleIsReal anyone?? Eventually I started to give up on trying, because it was always the same story. I never considered taking my life, I rather mourned each and every year of it, and my youth, that went to waste, also having trouble imagining myself ever being happy. I have rarely had much problem asking for help, so I did, and sometimes I got some. It was a good thing I did; asking for help, whether you get it or not, at least gives you more legitimacy when whining about your problems or feeling sorry for yourself, eh? If that's what you wanna do, anyway. (I think everyone does that, at least a little bit.) For me, though, it helped to always be doing something in attempt to change my situation, no matter how insignificant it was; whether it was finally doing the dishes, getting dressed that day, or making that phone-call I had been dreading for two weeks. Those little things mean very little to the people around, but they are big accomplishments for yourself... eh, speaking for myself, anyway. So imagine how psyched I was when I woke up a few weeks ago and I was not tired? I was so giddy that I was bouncing in my chair. One of the major changes that I think caused this was that I had for a couple of months been prescribed D-vitamins by my endocrinologist (a kind of doc that specialises in this stuff) after having discovered my D-vitamin rate was at 18, which is crazy low. (You are meant to have at least 85 or something, and around 55 you are given treatment for it.) I actually felt... what I assumed must be "normal". This also happened when I was little; my mum has told me about when I had been given a stronger dose of Levaxin (the standard medicine for hypothyroidism) and I would act like a "normal kid" (energetic and playful, etc) for a while, then gradually go back down to my normal level, which was very non-reactive. Since that morning, things have been easier, but still not enough for me to get back to the real world. With my new level of energy, generally feeling like I'm awake most of the time rather than asleep, I take more steps towards changing my situation. Who cares that I'm failing my distance class in Digital Painting? At least I'm awake.

Why so sensetive?

Things that are fun are far from as much fun as they should be. Bad things or even slightly meh things feel so much more devastating. Typical depression, I suppose. You know you've gone low when something as small as someone not having added you to their friend-list makes you upset.

Yesterday I was also crushed because they hadn't removed the tags from the glass vases in the hospital cafeteria. Boy did I bawl. At least the personnel didn't wave me off when I walked up with one of the vases and asked them to please remove the tags, because it doesn't look nice. I think he could see I was upset and so he said they'll remove them. That and mum coming with me to the hospital in the first place were the little rays of light of that day.

Every day it gets harder to keep my chin up.

One of those things I never wanted to deal with

There are many things I've hoped I'd never have to deal with when it comes to injuries and health, and one of them is to have some eye-condition that forces me to take eye-drops. But the day has come.

I went to the emergency-room because this eye has given me grief for weeks. Emergency-rooms take time. I must have been there for, what, three hours? I saw three people in that time, a nurse, then a doctor, then another nurse. The first nurse was very pleasant. The doctor was very unenthusiastic. (Could tell he just wanted to be done already and go home.) Then a third nurse who I thought would of known tears were pouring from my eye because it hurt, not because I was sad.
"Are you sad?" (Are you sure you work in the eye-department?) "... No, my eye hurts."

Final judgement: 5 eye-drops per day. (FIVE!! NOOOE.) Also apply salve to lower/inner eyelid. (I dunno what it's called, but it's that place between your eyelashes and poking your eye out.)

I'm going to be very badass and an expert on eye-drops at the end of the week, when I'm going back to the hospital a (WO)MAN, ready for anythin'! If I can take eye-drops, I can beat up a shark and I can also jump from air-planes. I'm going to eat these words later...

Why don't I go to bed even when I'm physically dead tired?

Yes, what's up with this staying up nonsense.

Either the day has been too awesome to end - OR it's been too sucky or boring and I don't want to go to bed with that. A boring end to a boring day is a big spot of meh on your mood. Going to bed sad makes it hard to sleep because it WILL be on your mind and not leave you alone just because you're exhausted.

I've had a decent day, but I've not left the house, and I've worn my pyjama-shirt and my hair is dirty. With that, I don't particularly feel like I had a day at all, even if some nice things went on between my two desks and computers. So I feel the need to stay up and entertain the hell out of myself until going to bed and ponder things until sleep takes over seem like a more attractive activity.

So that's what I'll be doing now.

Mummy

I miss my mummy. She's back in Sweden now and is coming over on Friday. (donthateme!)

I still sometimes think back on that afternoon a few weeks ago when she was here and trying to help me out with my new IKEA-shelf. She's overworked but wants to help me in my depressive/lonely/struggling phase. The shelf was not cooperating with us at all, and after 4 hours or sweating and struggling and some violence, we gave up. Mama was on the verge of tears and I started comforting and reassuring her that it was okay.

"Still want some of that cake?"

"Oh, that's right... Yes."

She was meant to go to a friend's 50th birthday-party afterwards, so I said:

"Let's have some cake, and then you can go to the party, yeah?"

"Damn it, I was supposed to be helping you, not the other way around!" she whined with this endearing, weak lil' smile. It was so cute that she cared.

I look forward to seeing her so I can hug her to death. My mummy is my heroine right now, in this hard adult-life. Who would've thought. She's really changed.