I’m hungry. It’s 2 am. I can’t sleep. And, I need to learn to blog again and all that. Basically because I like blogging and I don’t want to give it up. Can’t say I don’t care about my readers, because I do. Blogging is a little like taking a microphone and knowing you have to say something interesting.
But screw that, you know.
A few minutes ago, I was finishing one of my excercise drawings. I’ve been drawing for years but not exactly. It’s more that I start drawing, get excited with my natural “talent”, and try to skip everything and jump to the most complicated things, sabotaging myself because without all the technique and practice, that road only leads to frustration. So, I start, set goals that are too high, get frustrated, and stop. Several years pass and I do it again, and so on until now, my 23 year old inexperienced self.
I do think that I have an above average thing in me for visual art, but this time I’m trying to do it the right way. I’m not in university anymore. After much drama, I finally graduated, got a piece of paper that I threw somewhere because I can’t work yet due to depression. I’m still too ill to go ahead and study my medical subjects even though I need to – let alone consider getting a job. I have lots of time, finally. And my neighbor just happens to be a renowned local painter with an art school, so I go there now. I started on Jan 26, and have afternoon classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It’s the perfect opportunity because the school is next door. I know that I don’t need to take buses or go far away from the house, and if I get any hint of panic I can run back, which in turn makes my panic stay under control.
I’m trying to take it slowly. It’s basically the only thing I do outside, but after all what’s happened this is huge. It gives me some purpose to the days and prevents them from merging into a horrible mass of nothingness. I found some photos of the actual school online. I assume these are from last year, but last week I was doing this very same exercise with the same exact vase. So I went like… ZOMG! LOOK!
I think I had better luck with it than the girl in the photo, though.
The excercise I just finished had 2 figures instead of one, another vase and a cup… the object of it was learning to keep the correct proportions. Tomorrow we’ll do three and then we’ll go on with shading.
Taking it slowly. Depression wise, the art course makes it better, but things haven’t been so good, namely because of my last change of medication, although I’m always reluctant to believe this is the most probable cause and instead think I’m worthless and everything is wrong and I should just die. I DO have insight, it just has a very soft flea voice compared with the bad evil machine that beats me up…
Anyway, the meds changed because with the imipramine I completely lost my appetite, was hungover all day, and later got tachycardia and palpitations so my psychiatrist stopped it. We started Escitalopram instead, which according to the psych has a good effect on social anxiety besides the depression. We’ll see. For now, the change turned me into an insomniac but at least my appetite is back and I don’t have any other bad effect for now. I don’t blame the insomnia on the escitalopram but rather on the withdrawal from the imipramine that kept me sedated. So hopefully that should improve.
Things are OK objectively speaking as I’m doing something in “earth realm” besides staring at the ceiling, I’ve managed to keep myself relatively clean although there’s no such luck about the place where I live in, I am not in the streets because my family supports me financially (where I live, incapacity benefits and such are non existant), and I had a valentines for the first time in my life this year. Not that I give a damn about the actual day.
But depression stands strong, and some days are pretty awful. The insomnia affects me badly. I go from crying uncontrollably to becoming a stoic rock that wants to run away from all signs of love and hope in case I drag other people down with me. The bad evil machine beats me up constantly. I’ve had errands in my to-do list for ages but they aren’t next door like my class and therefore I have found myself unable to do them which in turn makes me feel like a failure. It’s still too hard to get out of the house, so the prospect of a job or an actual “life” by regular standards is still far and it’s too difficult for me to accept it. I can’t even look at the phone. I don’t talk to anyone besides my best friend and my parents. I’m awake at 3 am and a little bit too hyper for my own good. This usually predicts a whole day sleeping tomorrow. But I’ll wake up in time for the class, I know I will. It’s truly not that hard to shower, get dressed, go next door and stay there for three hours focused on my drawing. And I’m glad that this is “not that hard” in my eyes because that means a HUGE improvement.
I’ll try to watch Lost, I’ll try to drink coke (LOL “try”). I’ll go to the class and later spend some quality time with my favourite demon.