By far, the most distressing form my anxiety chooses to take. Completely lacking in variety, for which I am endlessly grateful and almost always occurring with predictable regularity, they somehow also manage to be just as disturbing, aggressive and frightening every single time. You'd expect to develop a certain amount of tolerance after years and years of the same shit. Well. It doesn't seem to apply in this instance. The irony isn't lost on me in the least.
I didn't actually realize I suffered from anxiety until a few years ago. I still don't know the extent of it or the actual shape it takes, mingled up as it is with all my other... issues, let's call them. If it even matters to put a label on it. The signs for it were never particularly clear, not like the ones for the OCD or for the depression. And it's not like anyone except me noticed those either or like I ever had the faintest idea what to do about any of it anyway. Then again I was just a kid.
I remember being in second grade and trying to explain my OCD to my mother. I didn't understand what was going on, why I felt compelled to do certain things, a certain number of times, in certain situations, but I did know, even back then, without anyone ever telling me, that it wasn't exactly normal. Or ok. What was I, seven? Eight? Something like that. And I remember her looking at me impassive and sort of shrugging the whole thing off the way she did silly, childish questions she had no time for. And I also remember how completely alien and alone I felt because I realized she really had absolutely no idea what I was talking about and I had absolutely no idea how to explain it to her. I acutely remember the feeling that there was something wrong with me and no one would be able to help. Because if my mother didn't understand, who at that age was the be-all, know-all of my existence, than certainly no one else could.
Anyway. This is turning into a blog more than a portfolio presentation, huh? How long has it been since I've managed to create a photo? Any artistic work of any kind, in fact? Months... It's been months and months. I'm very envious of those artists who manage to have an uninterrupted flow of work and creativity. Who don't feel like they're drifting underwater for weeks on end, disconnected, lost and cold. Yeah.
Talk to you guys soon. Stay safe.
#anxiety #depression #ocd #mentalhealth