I rarely, ever, use journals. I don't like to complain to people, and I figure it doesn't matter to them anyway. I used to use them a lot for simple updates, ask questions, answer quizzes, but I never ranted.
I've been a deviant for a long time. I'd sometimes post art, but it would always disappear again because quite frankly, it sucked. I've never been confident with my art, and I suppose a lot of people aren't. I'm quite a perfectionist though, so my insecurity would always make me hide or delete any art I posted. I'd always tell myself, and I still tell myself, that if I wait longer, maybe I can get better first. But that has backfired in a way.
In 2007 is when I first started drawing seriously. I had never really drawn people in my life, as I only drew animals and monsters when I was young, but I finally found some muses, original characters within me, and so I tried my hardest to learn how to draw humans. It is also the year I became seriously ill.
I will never, ever be able to describe the absolute hell I have been through these past three years. There are just... no words I can use to describe the pain and suffering I have been through, mentally, physically, emotionally. None.
It has felt like an eternity since I became ill. I lost my health, in many ways. I was trapped in the house for years, because I could not exercise. My heart could not take it. I also could not remember things, could not concentrate on anything at all. TV, computer... I felt like I was trapped in my body. There were times I couldn't move. There are really... too many symptoms to remember. I was in hell. It took months of being poked and prodded by doctors to finally being diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia. There really wasn't, or isn't, any cure. It may or may not go away.
I slowly got a little better, for no real reason, as medications did not help, but new symptoms would come. And along with this, I slowly began to lose my vision, in a sense. My once clear vision became blurry enough that I needed glasses after 17 years, and I got visual snow, which, is another illness that not many know about, and there is no cure, or even treatment to. It began to slowly get worse, then was getting worse every week. It drives me insane. It's like a unclear, static tv screen. All the time. Even eyes closed. All the time.
Emotionally I became an anxious, angry, depressed person. I'd have anxiety and panic attacks. Sometimes for no reason I could think of. Same with anger. I started to hurt everyone around me with what I said. I'd have severe breakdowns. I slowly became depressed. I could feel it. Little by little, I would lose feelings, until I've now become numb. The only feelings I can still feel are anxiety and anger.
I've tried everything I could all these years. Natural remedies, prescriptions, anything that could made me feel better...
This journal may be long, but it's barely a sliver of what I could tell you. Of what I've been through. I honestly do not know, how I am still alive. I just... have no idea why I haven't committed suicide yet. I have constantly wanted to. But I have always been a determined person, it has always come natural to me. I do not give up, even when I wish I could, even when I try. I guess of what little is left of who I used to be, that's still there. I wish it wasn't.
None of this is over. I am going to be twenty years old. I feel like I've lost precious teen years. Years with my animals. So many of my ambitions and dreams have been ripped away from me. I've lost so much. I've had to deal with this, along with all the everyday things people get upset over. I had to constantly read and see people complain about petty things throughout this. I've become bitter about it, because I know they still can walk, run, think... though I know I probably complained about stupid things too, but now I know, that if I ever did get better, I would never, ever, take anything for granted. Ever. I would not get upset over little things. I would only enjoy what I had. I would be the happiest person there is. I sincerely mean that.
This is all just a splinter of my thoughts, and what has happened over the years.
Right now... I am numb still. I have severe depression, anxiety attacks... my vision is still bad. The medications for depression make me physically worse, so I can either take medication and feel a little better mentally, or I can not take anything and be emotionally dead.
I am unsure as to why I decided to come back to dA. I left for about two years. I would still look at art, but I didn't really get myself involved. I was stuck at the computer, and yet I did not want to speak to anyone. I've gotten a little better at art since then, when I could actually force myself to do it. Though often it was a good vent for stress. But like I said... it sort of backfired to wait this long to come back to dA. My depression has killed off my original characters for many months now. I don't feel them or think about them much anymore, as I was very close to my characters. They were all some sort of part of me. I got my first OC when I was having a breakdown... and that is about the only good thing that has come from my illness, though now the illness has taken them back.
Also... most people I knew are gone. In college or working. I've seen a very big change in dA. People aren't as friendly as they used to be. I used to get comments on my art when it was worse than it is now. I'd get quite a few, and people were more willing to just talk. It felt like a community, now it doesn't. It all seems to me like the "best" artists have been established, and most people want to suck up and be friends with them. No one pays attention to the person, it's whoever has the best art. If you can draw well, you must be an amazing person, if you don't, you must be a childish wannabe. I've seen other changes as well, and it's all made me quite tired of deviantart. I've been on the sidelines, watching it all change for these years, and I don't like where it's going. Though I'm not going to leave yet, as I do not have much else to do, I am starting to see why people leave this site.
I'm wondering why I'm finally writing about all this. Probably because so much has gone wrong the past few days...
My best friend, *
Crystal-Mew, has stayed with me through all of this. She lives very far away from me, in Canada, and so we've only been able to see each other twice. But we talk for hours online, every day, and have, every day, for four years. She's stayed with me through thick and thin, no matter what I've said, or how I felt. Another thing words cannot describe, is how much I love her. My depression has taken away all my feeling... and so I literally cannot feel love anymore, but I know that I still love her more than anything, and I don't know if I could have held on this long without her. She's a wonderful, amazing person, and I never thought I would meet anyone I could love, or who would love me, just for being me. She is a true friend, the kind that not many people can find. I love you, Crystal.
The past few days I've been having severe anxiety, anger, stress... I don't want to turn twenty. I really don't. I do not feel twenty, and I'm scared of getting older because of the years I am losing like this... I should have been in college... and had my license... had a job... so many things...
We had planned for Crystal to visit me for my birthday on Dec. 23rd... but now that plan has fallen apart... I don't know what to do...
I... don't think I have anything else to say. There's a million more things I could say, but I'm tired and it would not make a difference. So I give you this bit. Just whatever came to my mind at the moment. If you read it all, I hope you take something from it, and try not to worry about little, everyday things, that everyone has to deal with, and just appreciate the fact that you have your health, and your loved ones. Anything else can be fixed, and isn't forever. But once you lose your health to a disease, or lose someone you love, it can never be changed. Remember that.
This is such a long journal, and yet so little of my life.
Resolutions (trying to pick myself back up)
Draw and paint from life (and in general) more, as I don't do it much and I know I won't get better that way. Right now I just doodle for fun.
I guess I'll see if I can do a mission impossible and somehow get past all my illnesses to do what I wanted to almost four years ago. Now another year is here... wish me luck. 
Pain
She helped me get through my twentieth birthday, and I had the best time I've had in a long time. 
Longing
Neutral
