#i ignored / deleted a lot of social media and just drew for myself and my mental health has never been better (well it was already p good)

[mirioho]

what made you interested in pursuing art more seriously or more intentionally? hope you are having a good day. i love your art and tumblr page design! you're very talented :)

Hellooooo anon, first of all, thank you very much for sending this in. And second, I am very sorry I did not answer this sooner. I think you sent this a year or so ago so you have my sincerest apologies 🙃 idek if you're still following me but

(long winded answer below)

(Skip ahead to paragraph below heart emojis if you don't wanna read my art journey and rant and just get to the actual answer to the question)

I did not intentionally maliciously ignore your ask. Rather, I kept it around because, ironically enough around the time you sent this ask is when I just...stopped doing art for a long while. I was, for a lack of a better word, very depressed, and I was incredibly unmotivated and I hated everything I drew and I disliked even the act of drawing itself.

Whether it was traditional or digital, a study, a sketch, a proper art piece, experimentation, I didn't like any of it anymore. Which was disheartening because art had always been one of my only creative and sometimes emotional outlets. It was a passion. It was My Thing, so to speak, I guess.

I wasn't doing great mentally but it didn't help that I had been comparing myself to various artists online. It felt like no matter what I did I just wasn't happy with what I was doing. And it felt like even if I tried I wouldn't be able to reach the heights others seem to a lot more easily (especially if I saw that they were younger or had less time doing art than I did). I couldn't help but think everything that I did was wrong.

Or worse, not enough.

Good, but not good enough.

Great, but not enough.

Amazing, but not enough.

That's not to say people did not like my art. They did. But I didn't like it.

I didn't pick up my personal sketchbook for a long while. Even when I had deleted most social medias off my phone, I still couldn't bring myself to draw. It felt like a chore.

But sometimes I'd log into Tumblr on my mobile browser. Just to see this ask. I kept coming back to it. To be honest it's the first real ask I've ever gotten complimenting my art like this. And it felt sad to have received it when I'd pretty much decided to quit art.

But I still didn't delete it. I kept the ask even though I thought once in awhile I should reply with a "thanks but I don't do art anymore sorry" or something a bit more witty. Idk. But I'm not witty. But I am apparently very sentimental considering I've kept this ask as what I now think was hopes of someday coming back to answer it properly if I ever got out of the rutt I felt I was stuck in forever.

And I did get out.

Comparison is one of the worst things an artist can do to themselves. In comparing, i set unrealistic expectations for myself and my art. And in doing so I nearly lost the one thing that I think genuinely makes me happy. (I'm not even kidding like I couldn't even do a silly doodle without hating it) I personally think it's great to have big goals and big dreams with your own art. But to expect yourself to reach those things right off the bat or in a shorter time frame than is realistic is just going to put pressure on your shoulders that will inevitably make doing art feel like a burden since it feels like you're working so hard and not seeing any results. But it's because the results you're expecting aren't things that happen so easily with everyone.

There's also the fact that in setting these unrealistic expectations and comparisons, I began to dislike my art because I wasn't doing it for myself. Not really anyways. I was doing it for my expectations. But not for my enjoyment. I could only enjoy it if I met my expectations. But I never did (since they were so high and not reasonable) and so I stopped feeling the satisfaction and joy that comes with creating.

So, obviously in the time I was away I had to focus on 1. Being more realistic in my expectations and 2. Having fun. These seem very obvious things for any artist to do or remember but I needed the reminder apparently. And I try to keep that in mind everytime I do art now. I try not to be too harsh on myself and just enjoy the process. Because the process of creating is very nice and I missed it quite a lot. I missed getting an idea, sketching it out and slowly but surely bringing that idea to life. Even if it's just a silly fanart. It makes me happy to see it because after so long not creating a thing and hating it all, it's like welcoming back a dear friend. And that friend is me and my art.

💚💖💚

All this to say, I decided to pursue art more seriously and intentionally because I like it. I like the process of creating. I like the end results. Art is something I've always done and it's something I hope to always do in the future. It's not my job. But it's a hobby I pursue with intention because it feels good to share my art and it feels good to have it be appreciated and it feels even more fantastic to actually have someone like it so much they want to buy it (shout out to that person who earned me 25 cents on my first Redbubble sale. I actually cried). It's satisfying and validating, I, of course, won't let myself get swept up in the validation from others anymore. But I pursue it with purpose because art was never just some little thing for me. And hopefully it never will be.

But thank you again anon for your ask, I am very sorry I gave you unnecessary art journey details and rants in this answer but I hope you know your words were very helpful and if I'm being honest very motivating. To think at least one person liked my art enough to say it in ask form was something that made me feel better every now and then.

[pensurfing]

I Surrender.

By the time I actually post this, it’ll be near the end of the year and I’ll be near my burnout. Each year, usually I take an unannounced, but quiet, break. 

2020 feels different this year. Usually, I return in January; but this time I don’t think I can return. Too much happened in so little time and as a small creator, business, entrepreneur, small EVERYTHING I can’t ignore what lurks over my head. An ultimatum. 

I was in denial about it.

I thought maybe if I pushed making the decision back as far as I could, something would change. That as long as I worked hard, promo’d my sales and merch, did as many virtual cons as I could, something would change. Networking in newer groups, looking around for clients, and wanting to make new merchandise; name it. I did it. Work hard and reap the benefits later; while that is true there is also no shame in knowing when to quit as well. I was in denial about how long the pandemic in the States would last. I was in denial about needing help with my mental health. I was in denial about so many things in my surroundings. The biggest thing I was in denial about was my importance, impact, and ability to move forward with where I was with my art journey. The biggest reason why I was able to keep it up was due to the constant questions of “How’s it going? What are you up to? How are you?” No one (at least the way I see the world) actually answers this truthfully. So I just kept saying fine and for a while, I genuinely believed it. I lied to them. But to be fair, I lied to myself too.

I was angry about it.

I stayed here for so long.

SO. 

Long.

I was angry that I felt ignored; angry that I reached out and others had their hands tied as well; angry that I still managed to make sure others didn’t drown like I was drowning & didn’t think to help myself because I’m stupid; angry that the pandemic did last this long in the States; angry at me for not pulling some magic trick out a hat that I’m not sure existed; just angry. (tw: self-harm, vivid imagery) I was so angry I took it out on my debit card and self-sabotaged my good spending habits. I took it out on my legs and arms and broke a seven-year long streak of not hurting myself; I carved myself up entirely and punched the bricks of my house. I took it out on people. I don’t quite know how yet, but I feel like I did. Maybe I had a shorter temper than normal; I stopped reaching out and making sure I fully listened to their problems. I kept caring more about them than myself during this phase. And they just kept taking. And I became an empty cup, they moved on; I see that I’m just disposable. Which, isn’t wrong. All I could handle and still can handle is heavy convos with my therapist. (I don’t have her anymore, that’s right. I can’t afford her anymore.) All I could handle was trying to write it out, map it out, talk it out.

I was angry I didn’t see a point anymore. I felt like I didn’t deserve the tiny wins I did see because I didn’t go through some kind of threshold of pain and suffering to earn it. I was angry and the crumbs tossed my way in the name of “diversity” and “trying to hire black” because of guilt and white performance. I was angry being lead on with a tiny thread of hope because that thread was bigger than the nothing I’ve gotten this entire time. I was so angry and blaming myself for things that were completely out of my reach and capability. I was just really angry.

I tried begging my way out of it.

I looked for online classes of any sort to traject myself into a sort of hope. Buying hundreds of dollars in books, classes, anything in information I just didn’t have prior to the pandemic; and now because of the pandemic, the information will be obsolete as the world adjusts and readjusts to its changes and collapse in remaking itself. Making flash sales on my website if it meant seeing eight dollars by the end of the month. 

I didn’t stay here long because of my own twisted viewpoint of begging.

I was depressed about it. 

I stayed here the longest. It was already enough having the above marinate within me; add to the mixture of new relative drama, relatives passing away, and just not being in a healthy household... I grew tired. I stopped taking care of myself. Anyone with depression can tell you that dealing with that darkness is an uphill battle; usually, the first to go is my hygiene. But I just slowly stopped drawing altogether. I don’t draw when I’m not together. I’ve mentioned this many times over the years verbally and in written form on here. So I just kept taking breaks. I had a small string of commissions here and there, but that was the only illustrations I could create and that was its own battle. 

I tried mentioning it to people I was close to, but after a while hearing “it be like that sometimes” just isn’t helpful and isn’t worth explaining the story. So I just stopped talking. And not having my therapist made it harder. Especially because I have a lot of emotional dumpers who don’t understand boundaries. I don’t blame them, but after a while of nonconsensual emotional dumping I had to stop listening to another group of people because I just couldn’t handle any more weight; either they didn’t see I was drowning or didn’t care. It doesn’t matter anymore. 

I couldn’t enjoy the walks recommended by many; not even my favorite restaurants; or shows; or books/mangas; food in general; people in general.

Listening to music at least helped the “I’m sinking” feeling. But it was quickly ruined with “well intent” friends with; “Maybe if you drew something you’d feel better”, “Sketch, paint, it’s therapeutic”, “dRaW”. You get the picture. It had a double sting because it acknowledged two things: These ‘friends’ don’t know much about me and what brings me happiness; This isn’t about my happiness, but more about their own selfish requests to see more work from me because they don’t know anything else besides “I’m an artist, I draw, therefore that is all I am and all that can ever make me happy”.

See it this way: You have a friend. Friend is a musician. Your friend is slowly going deaf and loses their hearing. You can at least do small, everyday sign language. But not enough to handle a full conversation. Until your deaf friend can afford that hearing aide, talking to them will be a bit harder. But instead of learning more sign, you complain about how the person can’t hear as well anymore, so they become “quieter” and you stop reaching out to them. Projecting the “why can’t you just listen”. “You know what will make you feel better? If you play your music again, make mixes. We miss that.” “You sing, why not sing to make yourself feel better.” If the person cannot hear, how can they continue to make sure their craft is correct? In tune? On tempo? If a person is not in the mood or mental capacity to draw, then how can they draw? If all you can see is that you only know about friend is that they are a musician, can they really be a friend? Or just acquaintance?

Projecting the thing you get joy from said ‘not ok’ person and just demanding they do more of the thing you enjoy isn’t helpful; but selfish. Because in that case it isn’t about the person, but you and your expectations and things that you get from said person. Once they stop giving you the thing, then it’s about ‘how-dare-you-not-give-me-my-thing’. And I stopped caring to go through this consistent loop and being talked over when trying to explain myself.

I sat in my bathtub more than I had in years; the irony is this is comforting. So for weeks, this is where my mind and mental capacity have been. Sitting in my tub, with a blanket, my phone, and my switch. I’ll stay there all day and go to bed; sometimes I’ll sleep in the tub and stay there all day. I listened to music. Just daydream. I write a bit more now for my own purposes. It’s been nice. But not enough to get me out of a funk.

I finally accept it.

I’m just a person to be there and happy for others and their things. I think I finally get that now. I’ve slowly removed myself from social media and with the expectation of performance. I’m not a performer; I’m supposed to just be the audience. While this isn’t an “I quit” because this is all my job experience the past few years now, this is just an “I surrender”. I’m used to the fact in my waking life I’m no person’s ��favorite’ or ‘go to’; so I guess now I’m coming to terms with that with work and with drawing in general. I have company clients I’m wrapping up work for but after that, I’ll be taking down my commission information and artist alley gallery. etc. I’ll shut down the store; I’ll do one last sale and either give away/throw away my extra items.

I just have to start entirely from square one. Maybe negative one? I went on what feels like the world’s longest pity party to say I’m taking a break, and seeing how the world broke in 2020 there is a chance I won’t be able to come back. And I don’t want people jumping me say “how dare” “you don’t try hard enough” or “shut up and just wait until next year/try again next year”

I’m covering my bases. If things look up then I’ll just happily delete this later.

But I can’t just ignore the reality of it all. I’m not ok and I haven’t been. And I just want to stare at my ceiling guilt-free for a bit. (I did this last night and it is fucking gross looking, gotta clean it.) 

Stay safe, stay indoors, and stay clever.

[[TL;DR: After continuing to get beat down by the world the past two years, this year pushed me past a tipping point. I can’t keep being a lukewarm illustrator at best and I am slowly wondering if I even want to; I want the space to figure that out. And don’t want the same friends who tell me “draw this, color this” to hound me on that decision either: it has the same energy when a kid with asthma can’t breathe and you talk over them and say “just inhale and exhale”.]]

I hereby release me from the pressure to post consistently because honestly, it is the only time I hear from anyone anyway So this is me choosing silence for a bit.

[jeremiahdowney]

I run a cursed images website, the recent submissions are scaring me

——————————————————————

I run a cursed images account. You probably know the type if you spend any time online, I like to joke that my site is the eleventh most popular cursed images account, and if you can think of one it’s probably a competitor.

Well, I used to run one, it’s down now, though I don’t think it matters much anymore.

The site was downright simple to run and I got a lot of submissions. Most days I woke up and checked the various places people sent me photos to consider. Email, dropbox, facebook, twitter, instagram. Once I had enough followers, people made the rest of it almost automated for me. I picked out four images for the day and scheduled them to post on my website. Once they went live on the website, they automatically reposted on all my social media, where people shared them, and then more people saw them and followed me and sent me stuff. It never made any money, but I had a lot of followers and it was fun. The whole thing took maybe 20 minutes a day before work.

What is a cursed image? It’s hard to describe, but it’s a photo that makes you uneasy. A picture that, as you look at it, gives you a gnawing feeling of dread. I don’t like the edited ones, like the pictures where someone’s mouth has been photo-shopped over each of their eyes. I like real photos, ones that get under your skin and are eerie and unsettling and creep you out just a bit. The heavy feeling that starts in your gut and crawls up to your head.

The first picture arrived just about 3 months ago. I checked my dropbox and there it was, 100.jpg. I opened it and saw a patch of disturbed dirt in a field at night. Not a great one, honestly, and I stuck it in a folder with the rest of the rejections before continuing my day.

The next day I had another in the drop box, 99.jpg. I opened it and immediately recognized it as the same place I saw the day before. In this one I could see a shallow grave dug in a field, with what looked like a body laid at the bottom of it.

This might sound crazy, but it really used to happen all the time. People tried to scare me, they pulled elaborate pranks on me, they hoped to get a fake photo on the site they could brag about fooling me with. This one didn’t even look entirely real. I moved it into the rejection folder and forgot about it.

The next morning another photo appeared. In this one, a horribly flayed body laid on the ground next to a shovel. There was too much blood to see much of it, and honestly it still didn't look real. 98.jpg went into the rejection pile, though I was amused at this point. Most people either sent one fake photo or overloaded me with them, this one was working in reverse order and being clever about it.

The next day I got a movie, 97.mov. I watched it. I watched it again and vomited. I watched it a third time and called the cops.

This one showed the death of the person in the first two videos, and there was no doubt it was real. The victim, who had been horribly tortured, was stabbed over and over.

The police were disgusted, but also unimpressed. They took a copy of the files and told me to email them if I got more, but that it was probably a prank. Even if it wasn’t a prank, there was no way to know where in the world this happened. They probably didn’t have jurisdiction.

The next day switched back to photos, still in descending order. Each one showed the victim in a cell, in the midst of being horribly tortured. Each one was the same, no metadata, nothing distinguishing, I couldn’t even see the victim’s face in any of them. I just knew I was looking at a relatively young man tortured for a very long time.

After a month I finally snapped and deleted my dropbox. The police weren’t responding to my emails anymore, even to confirm they received them, and I couldn’t keep looking at these photos.

The next day, photo 68.jpg landed in my facebook DM, from an account with an obviously fake name and photo (that of a fairly well known celebrity). I blocked the account, but each day the photos still slipped through.

I changed my facebook settings so I couldn’t receive messages anymore, then I did the same with my twitter. I deleted my email address, and used a new one that I didn’t post online.

I also reduced the number of images posted. I had a lot of submissions left over, but people started to complain. My social life suffered, I would come home and lock myself in, feeling anxious about the arrival of the next day’s photo.

Still the pictures made it through.

My personal facebook, my personal email, a text message on my phone. Every time I deleted an account it just showed up in another, even ones I had never posted online. I scanned my computer for viruses, but nothing changed.

50, 45, 20.

For some reason I was growing increasingly frantic as each day passed, feeling that I drew closer to some awful truth I was better off not knowing.

7, 5, 2.

One morning the photo was an email in an alumni account I forgot I had. The next it printed out of my printer.

The first photo showed the victim lying in a clean cell, they had a bag over their head and seemed to have just been put in there. It was horrible to know what followed, but it had a feeling of finality, somehow.

The next morning I woke up and realized there was no picture.

With a sense of freedom I logged onto my website to post the day’s photo, and saw there was one already there.

It was the cell that I had seen so many torture photos in. But now it was empty, clean. An old fashioned sign that said “vacancy” hung on the bars. The file name was 0.jpg.

I deleted my website and every account I had, if someone could hack my account I didn’t want it anyway. I threw my laptop in a drawer and called my internet company to cancel my service. I tossed my phone in the trash after that, and picked up a new one on sale at a place down the street.

I woke up the next day feeling uneasy, but hopeful. There was really no way to reach me, I hadn't even given the new phone number to my parents. I went to work and settled in nicely, until the mail came. Tucked in along with some packages I was expecting was an envelope with the number -7 on it. I opened it and found a photo of someone sleeping. I couldn’t make out any details, it was taken in a dark room, and you could see someone in bed, but nothing distinguishing.

I got fired about five minutes later, right after I unloaded on Betty, the nice lady who did our mail. She had no idea what was wrong, I still feel bad about that.

The next morning I woke up and, still trying to figure out what to do with my day, almost slipped on the next photo. The envelope, marked “-6”, had been slipped under my front door during the night.

This photo showed the same sleeping figure in bed, but this time it was taken from further back. I could see the room. I saw the framed poster over my bed of my favorite movie, the lamps I bought at a garage sale because I thought they looked cool.

I saw myself, sleeping. Worse, I could see the beer can I left on my nightstand last night, something I never did. This photo had been taken just hours before, while I slept, by someone in the room with me.

I dug my laptop off and powered it on. I looked through all the horrible photos again, this time ignoring the fact that I couldn't see the face of the victim. Now I noticed the scar on my side from where my best friend caught it with a stick in second grade. I noticed the birthmark on the back of my knee, the mole on the side of my neck. I watched myself be slowly tortured, over the course of several months, before dying. I watched the video again, realizing that the screams were mine, or what would be left of me by then.

I’m on the road now but I don’t know where I'm going. I know I have just a few more days before that empty cell is supposed to be full, only a few more days before whoever or whatever is hunting me plans to begin torturing me to death, slowly.

[I’m going to run. I don’t know if I’m going to make it, but I’m going to try.]

[domesticangel]

here’s a big ol dump of art thats been sitting in my folders for anywhere between 1-3 years that at this point ill probably never finish to accompany some Really Long rambling under the cut

im a junior in college now (””should be”” a senior/whatever that means/since i took a gap year but) but when i was in my like....sophomore-senior years of high school i drew like.....every. freaking. day. like literally i feel like i would draw like, 1 or 2 fully fleshed out, give-all-my-attention to type drawings every single day of my life, and i always had so much fun doing it.

after having a while to self-reflect though ive concluded theres kind of some layers to this. because i figure theres at least a little romanticization of the past going on, because i KNOW i wasn't a very happy person in high school; in fact, mental health wise, late high school into my freshman year of college was probably my very lowest point. i did lack motivation at these points, but not for drawing; i kind of put off school work and college prep, which wasn't good, but drew like HELL every single day, and pretty much all of it was fan art. thats one of the main differences between me then and me now; i used to dedicate so much of my time and energy to “fandom” and the media i was into, and it totally fueled my desire to draw, whereas now, i obviously still enjoy different series, but... my life doesn't really revolve around them like it used to.

the way i see it, i think i definitely used to use media and fandom participation as a form of escapism, but not really the good kind... i think it was more of a maladaptive obsession i failed to keep in check that i know for a fact really got in the way of my schoolwork, and i only doubled down when it came time to apply to colleges, because of course that stressed me out and scared me; during times like that, which was almost always due to my mental health issues at the time, i clung to fandom because its what brought me comfort and kind of shielded me from my responsibilities.

either way, that obsession with whatever media i was into at any given time is also what i think gave me that desire to draw all the time that i miss so much. i think being THAT invested in something is what actually gave me the constant desire to create, and being able to create something and feel accomplished in something without having to face anything uncertain or scary kept me totally hooked. so its weird trying to parse how i feel about that time period in my life.

on one hand, my mental health has gotten SO much better. obviously ive matured a lot since high school, so over time ive learned about much better coping mechanisms and ideas about mental health, ive gotten on a medication that works for me, and ive really gotten into my major so I'm really enjoying school as well. and obviously this is progress that i would never, ever, just want to give up or throw away. however, its also this progress that seems to have inadvertently influenced how often i draw, because I'm no longer fully diving into media/fandom because i dont need that escapism anymore, and therefore i don't have this like, feverish, obsession-fueled desire to draw like i used to. its kind of a double edged sword i guess and something i don't have a clear answer to.

i also think another factor i can't ignore is that i used to have a very large following in a lot of fandoms on tumblr, and if i remember correctly before i deleted my old tumblr i had around 12,000 followers that i had accumulated over probably the course of about 5 years. so that meant that my fan art got a LOT of attention. not to sound like hur-de-blur-social-media-is-evil but like at least in my personal experience, i kind of taught myself to think, “your art is only worth something if it gains a huge, instantaneous reaction, and peoples’ reaction to your art is the ONLY thing that decides its value.” and thinking like that really has hurt how i feel about my art over time! often times, after deleting my tumblr, i would find myself thinking, “well whats the point in doing any art, because nobodys going to see it anyway” so i honestly didn't draw or feel anything for art for a long, long time. in that time i channeled my feelings and energy into much more harmful activities, and i really could've used art at the time, but it had become such a worthless concept in my head since i could no longer associate it with immediate praise and attention.

i forgot a lot of important things about art, most importantly, how it could be fulfilling to just ME and that that was ok. i forgot that drawing regularly would help me improve, or give me something to focus on when i felt down, or give me the power to create something when i felt like i messed up everything else around me, or just make me happy because i thought of something i wanted to put on paper and then just put it on paper. and thats one of the main reasons i created this tumblr; i want to kind of rekindle that passion i had for art, but this time, without the maladaptive obsessions and without the need for approval from everyone around me. and i know this isn't a unique struggle; i know lots of artists who share their work online get discouraged by how little attention their work gets after they put so much time and effort into it, and like them, i don't have an answer as to how to “fix” this feeling either. but i can at least try. i want to prove to myself that the time i spent feeling hopeful and happy about something i created justifies its entire existence regardless of now many notes it gets, whether its OCs, fan art, digital, traditional, whatever. i just want to learn how to draw because it makes me happy.

that said, finding the motivation can be hard. however, i think I'm sometimes a little too hard on myself. I'm on winter break right now, and ive kind of defaulted to thinking “you haven't drawn enough, you've wasted so much time wishing the motivation fairy would visit you and make you draw that you haven't put in the time and effort needed to make yourself do it, youre pissing away every chance you have.” but when i think about it, i don't think thats true.

ive spent a lot of time thinking about OCs recently, which is kind of wild, because i haven't had the desire to make OCs in probably literally ten freakin years, so thats honestly huge for me--i actually really WANT to make original content despite the fact that i know it won't get as much attention as fan art, and i want to just do it for me, because i want to get it out. ive done a whole character sheet and I'm working on another! and sure, it didn't take me half a day like it maybe used to would've, but what does that matter? i thought, hey, i wanna get this out, and i got it out, and thats good enough for me. ive even written up storyboards in case i wanna ever make some small comics about my OCs just for fun, which is exciting cause ive never done it before. ive also been working on a commission for a close friend who wanted me to design her a fursona, and not only has it been a really fun process, but its the first commission ive done in a really, really long time, and it feels really rewarding. on top of that, I'm working on a painting for my dad as a late christmas present, and its my first really ambitious traditional piece in a while, so thats been pretty exciting too. and sure, ive done some fan art, but it feels like its coming from a better place; its less “please assign me value” and more just, really feeling something for the characters and wanting to try to connect with other people who feel something for those characters as well.

so, while it seems challenging, i also need to remind myself not to be blind to my own progress. i think i am doing better, and feeling better about art even if sometimes it feels like i spend way more time thinking about doing art instead of actually doing it. i think thats probably normal, and i think i can keep heading in the right direction.

ANYWAY this got really long but sometimes typing out how i feel about something and then reading it back helps me understand my own head a little better, so thats ok

[lamaery]

I am anxious that this might stir emotions and sentiments that seem, at least for the moment, at rest, but it at the same time I think it an important enough topic to risk it.

My mind on deleting it changed. I thought and am still thinking a lot about the overarching problems, mindsets, systems and mechanisms at play here and every time it popped up in my notes or on my pages, even in miniature when someone liked the post or even reblogged it in the last months I thought silently to myself „I don’t like that.“ I’ve come to associate feeling of cringe and discomfort about it and I do want to apologize for anyone I made feel the same with displaying the drawing.

In regards to the accusation of yellow facing Adolin: My main goal was to copy the pose and the style and merge it with my own design of the character (with which I have been rarely truly happy so far… still working on that) hmmm. While drawing him I had associations to character designs in Brother Bear, though it does not hold up in an actual comparison. Should the jawline be rounder? What else would have made it better? No yellow clothes? ...

But then, I am not sure if it is worth going over details when the whole picture was a mistake from the start. (I’ll try to say more about character design in another future post, but I am still working on that in the background).

Also a stupid joke that I drew in 20 minutes is really not a hill I want to die defending.

I leave the post up and only replace the picture with a description, because I still think it is important not to hide mistakes.

Maybe this decision is an egoistical one. Maybe an hypocritical one. Maybe it is a legit try of coming to a conclusion to what feels true and right and act upon it. I hope it is mostly the last point, but at this point I honestly cannot tell. I wish all this would have cost me less nerves and energy than it has, but at the same time I rather agonize and try to move forward than staying ignorant.

So, I think it is definitely important to be outspoken, but also despite the ugly sides of the internet and social media I hope we can be kind to another and give each other the benefit of the doubt or the time to process, where we think we can. This kind of discourse is and probably will be for a long time a messy one.

(Also I’m deleting the post from instagram completely since I cannot only take out just the pictures there…)

Image Descriptions of what was here:

To the right was a cover for a picture book version of the Pocahontas Disney movie, which shows the movie versions of Pocahontas and John Smith standing in front of a waterfall facing each other. Pocahontas long black hair is billowing in a breeze and John Smith carries a helmet under his right arm.

My drawing to the right copies the exact pose, the style in which the characters are depicted and several elements of the figures on the book cover. But now it is Kaladin and Adolin facing each other in front of snowy mountains. Kaladin wears his blue captain uniform, but his hair billows with the same length and in the same way as Pocahontas one. Adolin wears a bright yellow lighteyes suit and carries a basket with various hair brushes and bottles under his arm. He says „I’ve brought all of Shallan’s hair things…“ The silliness knows no bounds today. This is entirely argent's fault. in regard to stupid jokes and problematic context please consider: navaniel hat gefragt: um. Pocahontas is a deeply offensive bastardization of the tragic life of Matoaka, a real Algonquian girl who was captured by colonists, forced to convert to Christianity & marry a colonizer, and was toted around as a prop until her premature death. People have been saying for years that the movie is horrifically disrespectful and rife with anti-native racism, so I don't know why you think it's a cute kadolin au. Please consider deleting the art and apologizing.

So, first off it was a stupid joke that someone made because we were fooling around on the topic of Kaladin with luxurious long hair, and I followed through with it, more for aesthetic reasons than anything else.

Do I think the joke cute? Not really, cuteness was never really the point here. Do I think it still funny? More or less yes.

Do I think the way Disney treated it’s retelling of Matoaka’s life is funny? Hell no, not in the least.

Sometimes to think really hard about why you find something funny is the best way to kill the joke. SO what is this joke making fun of? I’d say the aesthetics Disney chooses for it’s characters and since it’s about flowy, long, luxurious black hair, that was the movie that apparently sprang to mind.

And as much I wish I could say that one can pick the aesthetics of something without being tied to the context of the rest of it, I know that this is impossible. One ends up perpetuating an image.

Said Disney movie is part of our western pop-cultural legacy. And yes, it is a horrible, messy bastard of an historical story with a very problematic aftertaste (oh god, there is so much of that). So what I will apologize for is my mindlessness that ended in a joke of poor taste which possesses, viewed from this perspective the same problematic aftertaste.

That said, no, I will not delete it. Because I don’t believe that just making a mistake disappear (if even possible on the internet) will help improve on why it was there in the first place. What I will do instead is put your comment and my answer in the original post as a disclaimer for the problematic context, to give people the opportunity to form a opinion for themselves and as a reminder to others and especially to myself to be more mindful in the future.

[justmickeyfornow]

Ok so... I'm not rich but I'm not poor either. I have a comfortable life. Always had food on my plate, etc. I'm gay and it's a "secret" (my family doesn't know) And today, I woke up depressed. Almost 2 years ago someone broke my heart when they dumped me and it made me go into a depression spiral that just got me crazy and made me want to kill myself. Every now and then I think of them, check their social media etc and this morning I woke up feeling alone and lonely. And I just don't know :(

Not sure if I’m the best person to give advice out there, but I guess I could give it a try :)

Here’s what mostly works for me. The magic fix to all of this is just to fill your time. It worked for me and maybe it’ll work for you too. Don’t let yourself have the privilege of too much free time. Because that's your biggest enemy. The more free time you have, the more you’ll be thinking and overthinking shit. You’re either studying or you have a job right? Well the rest of those hours in the day try to fill them. Work on a project. Go to the gym. Hang out with some people. Read a book. Read Fanfiction!! Learn chess. Learn how to code (this is what I’m trying to do lately. So far, it’s fun! You should try it).

Actually the gym thing might be one of the most things that was able to keep my mind off of all the scary stuff. It’s the reason I started going to begin with. I had a lot on my mind, I was going a bit crazy and I hated sitting there and thinking about it at home. So I went for a jog and it took my mind off of it a bit. Next thing I knew, I was signing for a gym membership and going everyday ever since. It’s a huge stress reliever. Even if you’re not the type to go, do it anyway. I even pushed myself so far that I got one of those expensive memberships (That I really really couldn’t afford) just so that I would guilt myself into going everyday. And so far, I haven’t thought about that incident that shall not be talked about (scary harry potter style voice) in a long while (crap, I just thought about it now.....).

Do something that you’re good at and that you love. You’re good at drawing? Go fucking draw your heart out! Writing? Write stories until the end of time. Dancing? Singing? Playing a musical instrument? Whatever it is, do it. And there’s no such thing as “I’m not really good at anything”. So I better not hear you saying that. There’s always something that you’re really good at. Not perfect. Just good. Because if you’re just good at something, then eventually you’ll want to make it better and better until you get as close to perfect as possible. I had a friend once that lived her whole life with the notion that she wasn’t good at anything. She’s 23 and last year me and her found out - accidentally - that she can do math in her head in lightning speed. I randomly asked her what’s 12x32 and she did it in her head in less than two minutes, no pen no paper. And she was just as surprised as I was. She apparently thought everybody could do that (God knows I can’t!). So find something you’re good at and fill your time with it. I always complain about writing for Paranoia Incarnated, but the truth is it takes my mind off of the billion things that I’d rather not think about.

Social media. There's absolutely nothing wrong with cutting off from social media. Sit down and really think about it: When you browse through a certain social media account/page/thingy (I don’t even know what’s it called? I’m not really good at that stuff), what do you normally feel? Is it depression? Numbness? Endless scrolling of nothing? Jealousy? Then just delete it. It's so easy to delete an account its crazy that not more people do it. If you feel happy. You read things that make you smile. You rant about characters you like. Squeal at drawings someone drew. Smile at a cat picture. Then keep it.

As for being tempted to check up on that person that hurt you. Now, I personally believe in the opposite of Exposure therapy (concealment therapy?). If something bothers me or tends to stir up negative feelings in me, then I just make it disappear as best as I can. If it's a real person, I avoid them. If it's someone online then I block them. If it's someone I'm following, then I just unfollow them. If it's a situation, then I make sure I’m never put in a similar situation again. Yes, I know, not really a healthy thing to do. But, again, I’m a crazy person and healthy is not really something I’m very good at. So, if you really wanna go down my slippery slope, then just either unfollow or block the URL that takes you to her page. It’ll give you some peace of mind. Whenever you’re tempted to check up on her, then just get up and do something else. Open up Paranoia Incarnated and read the fluffy happy moments! There’s an idea! (Suggestions from PI? The pancakes for dinner conversation. Two penguins getting married at the zoo. Kara taking a nap for the first time in Lena’s office which is also the first time she tells Lena she’s beautiful. Leia’s chapter! The famous scotch cookies (I love this chapter!) and last but definitely not least because I was laughing my ass off while writing it: Lena trying to tap her head and rub her stomach and failing miserably!)

Now, let’s talk music. Choose one song that calms you down. Think of one song or one singer that every time you hear, you feel your mind drift from what you were doing just to properly listen to that song. Choose one singer whose voice can literally stop you from having a panic attack. Now, convince yourself that once you hear that song/singer that you'll be alright. I swear to God it works. If it didn't work for me I wouldn't recommend it. But it works for me.

Eden is that singer for me. I have a few songs for him that if I feel like I'm having an anxiety attack or any sort of scary nervous breakdown, I can put on my headphones and just play one of his songs and it’s like I could breathe again. If you’re interested in Eden, let me know and I’ll recommend which songs you should listen to first.

(Also, here’s a link to the Paranoia Incarnated Spotify playlist. There’re some songs on there that might help too.)

Speaking of music, your ask actually reminded me of this song that I adore. Put some headphones, close your eyes and listen to it. I have a feeling it might help ya out!

As for suicide. The only reason you're thinking about it is because you're keeping it as an option. I'm a practical person. I like to keep things practical. And simply not having suicide as an option can change your whole mindset.

Think of it like a bridge with water underneath it that you have to cross. This bridge is long and old and rusty and just slowly falling apart. But you have to get across no matter what. The water underneath is calm so it’s possible to swim there but it would still be hard. Both options are difficult but still both are possible. The third option is simple. Easy. You could just fly to the other side. Except you can’t. Because it’s impossible. It’s not an option. So you don’t think about it when you’re faced with the situation of crossing the bridge. Therefore you’re left with the other two options: cross the bridge on foot, even though you might fall down and get hurt. Or swim there, even though it would be extremely tiring and exhausting and time consuming and just plain difficult. But in the end you don’t have the option of flying.

Same goes with suicide. Don’t keep it as an option in your life, and you won’t think of it. Pretend that it’s impossible to suicide. Pretend that it just doesn’t exist. You do that, and I guarantee you won’t think about it as much.

There's no such thing as a permanent problem. Keep that in mind. Whatever you're feelings are towards this girl now, chances are they're gonna change in a couple of years.

I know you don't wanna hear this, but the truth is you're probably gonna go through so much worse to a point that this problem would seem like a walk in the park. And if you've really grown, you wouldn't think of suicide then either. Because you'd realize that you got over that first problem that once upon a time seemed like the worst thing you could go through. You actually got over it. You survived it. And you'll smile and think that you'll get over this too.

There’s also nothing wrong with feeling lonely. I wish I had a fix for you, but I still haven’t figured that one out yet. I tend to just ignore it (I’m starting to realize I live life by simply ignoring many many things. Maybe not the healthiest thing in the world....) As soon as I feel myself drowning in that feeling I simply get up. Do something. Anything. Go do the dishes. Hell, I sometimes get down and do 20 pushups to get my mind off of it (That usually works, seeing that once I reach 12 pushups I’m practically dead). Actually the pushups thing also acts as a sort of response treatment. Your mind will slowly realize that everytime it feels negative feelings you start torturing it with pushups and it stops pushing negative feelings towards you. Does that make any sense? I feel like that might not be the healthiest option. Maybe consult an expert? I dunno. I sometimes do it and it helps me, but I’m just a crazy person so I what do I know.

Other random things that I’ve done that were extremely helpful in changing my mindset:

1. Drink fruit water! Yup! I know it sounds ridiculous, but it kinda works. Grab one of those big water bottles that you take with you to the gym. Cut up a lemon (I prefer half a lemon), an orange, a cucumber, and some mint. Stuff them in there and fill it with water. It actually tastes pretty good. And it washes away the toxins in your body.

2. Dark chocolate! Not only is it healthy, but it releases dopamine (the little beautiful trigger in your brain that makes you happy) and increases your serotonin levels (the little beautiful trigger in your brain that makes you calm).

3. DRINK TEA!! I CANNOT EVEN BEGIN TO EXPLAIN HOW MUCH HAPPIER IT MAKES YOU. IT’S PERFECT. IT’S GORGEOUS. IT’S TASTY. IT’S JUST..... *SIGH*

4. Buy a bulletin board. Put it up in your room and go crazy with it. Pin up your goals. Projects. Your resolutions. Whatever it is. Make sure it’s on that board so you could see it every single day.

5. Smile a lot.

I dunno if any of this is helpful. But most of this stuff worked for me so I’m hoping it’ll work for you. Just read a lot of fanfiction, spice up your life with some smutty ones too and you’ll soon forget about that girl.

[myvelouri]

Some other guy she thought was as attractive or more attractive than me.

She really liked him. Wants him. Would date him. Like she did me.

3 months in.

So soon

Meanwhile I've been holding off on any other girl for her, but also because I can't do anything JUST 3 months after a break up... It feels weird. I have feelings for her only.

It's all gone now

I actually need to forget her

I used to cherish and keep every memory as hard as I could

But I actually need to forget now

I never knew another guy would be as attractive as I was to her

I never thought I'd see b so flustered over another guy

And she was so upset that I said this one girl was really hot. I had posted I was ignoring a really hot girl. I mean, it was to illustrate that I only care about her and no one else no matter how hot they are or anything. I only have my heart for one girl, for her.

And yet she's so flustered by this guy that probably got her wet

I can't believe another guy had that affect on her

I can't believe b is there, b said that

No I can't say b

And I'm drunk already

And I've been crying everyday still

And she thinks I'm fine.. I guess I hid it well

This guy looked like average height, black stud earrings like I used to have before my ear lobes got damaged and I couldn't wear them anymore, he had dark hair or something.

I can't believe it

I may have said girls were attractive but I also always said none of them are able to have me

I've been holding a candle for her... Not realizing she's already trying to be in a relationship with someone better than me

She never felt I cared about her... Which is awful to me because I sacrificed myself for her a lot

I'm dying

The bond... Oh that bond.

It's been killed and severed now. Only just now.

I've never seen her interested in another guy. Especially like this. Like so hardcore.

I didn't expect it. I thought she'd maybe be like oh yeah some guy who's kinda cute.

But no. She's full out super attracted to him

Like she was to me

I

I cried

A lot

I guess get the new and improved upgraded version of me

I will die soon. It's okay

I need to forget her

All the memories are extremely tainted now

I told her already I could never take her back if she hooked up with someone else. But this is so bad already. That she showed so much interest that she hid it from me

I'm not okay at all

I don't understand why she acts so upset if I don't act, basically boyfriendly to her

It seems she's looking for another guy. She is. She is so over me it's unbelievable

That's traumatic to me, honestly no bullshit, it is.

It's so soon

I did hookup with a girl when I was drunk and upset but my ex said it was okay. As soon as I told her I did that she said it wasn't okay and so I stopped

I...

What have I been doing this whole time

Why is love like this

But it died for me a lot now... Because as I've said... I'm only attracted to girls that are attracted to me. And now that she's actually attracted to some guy. Who I think I've seen, well. Yeah. It just went boom.

I have to forget every memory. Nothing can be real. Nothing can be in my head. I will burn everything she drew me and everything she gave me. It can't be real. It just can't.

I need to somehow delete all social media

Even this... She told me not to delete it... But why?

Oh... Why?