Growing Weird

I am bad at time.... I think I could look here, on my own blog, and figure out an accurate timeline ..... but I will just be vague instead.

A few years ago a couple of things happened that altered me ..... The first was the death of my Father, and the second was the loss of my job.

There are complexities with both events that pull at me .... that make me want to branch off and tell other stories, but for today I won’t. 

.... My Dad dying.... made me pull away .....

.... Losing my job made me give up on a few of the things that connected me to the world.

At first, I found myself doing very strange things..... I would sit on the couch wrapped in a blanket up to my neck .... sometimes with a sleep mask on  and listen to Airsupply .... For hours and hours.....  I didn’t have an impulse to move, there weren’t thoughts in my head..... I just blanked out. I should say, I don’t really like Airsupply .....but the music didn’t challenge me, and I liked that. 

When I had something that needed to be done I thought about it in a very distant way. .....Say I wanted to get the trash together to go out in the morning . I would imagine it over and over in my head.  I visualized the actions necessary like I was looking at an overhead map..... planning things like how many steps it would take to get  from the couch to the kitchen... resetting and rethinking it from the beginning many times .... The plans kept me awake through the night.... and went in circles.

I showed this sort of hesitancy other places too -writing email -family events - date night with Joe....

I eventually broke out of this a bit by drawing.... 

when I started producing work, I felt like I was getting better...... and I was, but I was also twisting in other weird directions.

I’m skipping a few steps here ... 

.... There were fantasies running in my head constantly,..... all sorts of different tangents. However, one thought kept popping up....and the way it snuck itself into my thoughts was bizarre it was an unhealthy thought camouflaged with a pleasant feeling. I kept thinking something along the lines of .... well I am pretty old and fat and unhealthy..... I’ll probably die soon, so it would be better if I stopped connecting myself to people. It will just make them sad when I die. The thought felt reasonable... and even compassionate.

I have had thoughts of death my entire life .... never suicidal, but just this constant acceptance of the fact that I would die soon. I guess the thoughts were more ridiculous when I was 12 .... :) in High School I was pretty sure I would die when I was 26... when we moved into the house over 10 years ago I didn’t want to plant tulips because I probably wouldn’t be alive in the spring to see them ..... I have tons of stupid examples ... So it didn’t seem strange to me after Dad died when I just assumed I was next.

Without work, I finally had time - I was drawing .... the drawings were tight and compulsive and automatic.....I didn’t recognize it as my work. It kind of burst out of me angrily..... The pathetic truth about me is this.... I am neither dedicated nor patient, I am compulsive.... I couldn’t stop drawing if I wanted to.

 I would post the pieces on Deviantart..... it was another part of the compulsion.... the period I had to put on the end of the sentence. Maybe some part of me wanted to connect to others.... maybe it was just a way of clearly saying I was done. 

BUT,  even on Deviantart there was a social element, and it would shut me down sometimes. If I received too many compliments ... and I allowed myself to feel good about them, I would stop functioning ..... I believed (kind of still do .....but the feeling isn’t as strong) that I was deceiving the audience... that I was a huge fake and that I was tricking them into thinking I was a better artist than I actually am. 

There are other weird things to tell other specifics..... but I guess it is only important that I focus on the place I find myself now.... Joe is the person that pulls me out into the world ... If you know him it is sad and ironic that he is the social one of the two of us. .... but that is kind of a cheap shot..... No one really knows Joe but me....and to me it isn’t all that ironic.... I assume from the perspective of others that it would be.... but from the inside looking out he is far warmer, nicer and less sadistic than I am... so it really isn’t shocking at all.

.....ugh.... anyway....

So.... I can tell I am a little broken.... It took me a while to see it..... and now I have quite  a hole to crawl out of ...... I have difficulty getting around because of my weight and my destroyed joints from work....I get panic attacks.... I’m a mental mess..... an example that might be easy to visualize- you can see the drawings I post here they are pretty sharp and fairly detailed ..... I’m not complementing myself when I say that...... but I bring it up because it takes a steady controlled hand to make them.... in contrast when I eat out I’m so nervous that I feel sick and my hands shake, to the point that I spill things off my fork... so, I specifically order food that I can eat without spilling.

In small ways I am trying to change ..... trying to be less passive.... Accept praise .... allow small connections with others.....get less weird....

So that’s where this rant ends....

....

One thing .... I don’t want to make it seem like it is all bad .... there have been benefits, lots of them .... I’m pretty good at spending time alone .... I’m never bored... and I feel stronger and more confident within myself....

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LOL side note —— the recent pandemic feels like conformation that I was on the right path....

Now I am a fucking hero for my lack of contact with the world :)