(no subject)

[luco]

...but if I go to bed with all of this still in my head it will not be good for anyone.

I'm sorry okay. I'm sorry that I can't get the art you wanted done. I'm sorry that I ended up in the hospital. I'm sorry that so many things SEEM to happen that you no longer believe me when I say what has caused the delay! But why? Why go around and tell everyone that I'm horrible? Why discredit me on paypal and DA and anywhere else you can?

You wanted the money? Fine! But seriously, it's hard enough to build up a reputation! It's hard and yes I admit I am not the most reliable and yes people do have to keep badgering me to keep me on track and yes my interests jump around a lot but I cannot help that at this time!

What do you WANT?! You can NOT expect an artist or a writer or a musician to simply be able to do something on command and put their heart into it! We're humans not machines! And each person is different! And don't give me that it can be solved if I just stay on my medication. Maybe the bi-polar can be leveled out and maybe the depression can be brought back up with medication because they are chemical imbalances, but those chemical imbalances are also what allows me to create the way I do!

You can't have both!! You can't have me an emotionally stable zombie AND an artist!! I'm TRYING!!! I really am! I'm trying to make a living I'm trying to be more stable and I'm trying to be dependable!!

But that's just for one part of the problem. The other problem is indeed me. BPD is not a chemical imbalance. It's a behavior, a coping mechanism! It's part of me, it's how I think how I live and I KNOW it's messed up. Don't think I don't. I know that I cannot associate properly. I know I obsess over things and people. I know I expect too much and can be manipulative and that I can't look in the mirror at night.

I know that the way I talk and act changes with my obsession at the time. That my haircut, clothing choice, words and stance are are reflective of whatever character I chose to model myself off of at the time. This is how I've always been and I'm trying to figure out how other people manage but I can't. I can't see me, i can't cope with just me.

My skin feels too tight, it's too hard to breathe, every emotion is an overload no matter how small it is and all I'm left with is what has always worked. Make-up someone else. They can deal with it. I'm useless and nothing. I'm not strong enough. If I try to face it my skin gets sliced open. If I try I watch people grow scared. I can't fight back, I can't say no I can't scream out and I don't know why.

I don't know how I became like this and now that it's been pointed out, now that I'm being forced to confront it I'm sick.

But I do know that I live off my art.

People offline always wonder why I'll spend all my time here, wanting to do prompts, wanting to do fanart to do stuff to please. It's because it's a way to live, a way to feel I'm worth something. I sit here and draw and draw, not always what I'm suppose to be doing, but what others want me to do because it's who I am here and here is safe. It's tiring, but it's safe and just knowing that someone out there sees it and likes it is enough to keep me centered. It's a way of showing a bit of myself without having to be connected to it. It's a way to explore the things that terrify me, to get rid of the stories and characters in my head. It allows me to use others to empty myself to deal with what I can't.

And no one has to see if I'm crying or in pain. No one has to see if there are bandages covering my skin or bruises across my arms.

No one can point a finger.

And yes. I know that it's sometimes wrong and yes I do need to get myself together. I know buisness-wise I am a nightmare for anyone to work with...but this is all I've got. I don't have the focus for office work, I don't have the coping skills for full-time people work. My allergy keeps me away from most places and it's so very hard to find someone willing to give me a chance and work with me.

I want to have an income. I want to be able to be indepandent. I want to take care of Puku and myself and I want to be able to do that through art. But can I at this moment? No. Because I can't focus. I can't do it and deal with dad's death. I can't do it and have to worry about lawyers, and my councelling and my Behavioural training and taking care of the home and watching Lee fade away and trying to have a boyfriend and trying to get on the proper disability services.

It's hard! It's not just something you can stop! Over 20 years of my life have been spent this way, so why does everyone expect me to change so quickly? Why can't I have a moment to catch my breath. And why not ask me if I'm ready? I'm scared. I'm terrified. What if the BPD is what is letting me be an artist? What if when the voices and thoughts go away there are no inspirations left? Why do I have to give up my imagination? Why do I have to be me when I consider me to be a stranger?

Why do I need pills to sleep at night? Why am I no longer allowed to dream because of them? Why do people notice now and not when I was younger? Why start caring when I've stopped?

I'm just tired and sick and frustrated and nothing has gone right today, from me waking up and having paypal contacting me, to having my headphones destroyed....

I wish I could be solved with a pill.

I also seriously just want a hug.

I want someplace safe.

I want someplace warm.

I want...to not be tired anymore.