I’m never sure if I should upload anything… less cheerful. But sometimes to express myself is the only option I have. It’s better than nothing, I guess.

I… don’t know what to do. Time flies by, another April, another decade. And I notice that I’m less and less capable of feeling, well, anything. Dealing with stress I once wished I could be absolutely calm and not affected by it. Not affected by tons of dirt I have to see in the web. So I got shielded layer after layer. I used to watch stuff like Nostalgia Critic thinking it’s fun but very rude. Now I’m ok with that format. And… watching old cartoons I realize just how much less I feel now. No matter how I want to be open-hearted. I still remember those feelings. This rainbow of emotions. It was like colors had a sound, sounds had a taste, cartoon scenes had a scent. And now I’m… digitalized. I only get information. I watch the shapes, I memorizes some tricks, I can reproduce a lot. But the emotions are almost gone. More like I get memories of them, not real ones. Nothing new. No difference between watching old stuff or new stuff.

And that’s awful. It’s like being dead. My computer can do what I can do. Sure, I keep practicing a bit every day to stay in shape for the case I get something back. A strong wish to draw. Because I need it, it’s my only salvation. And now… I sit for hours looking at the empty paper. It’s not art block anymore. It’s just new me. I feel like I only want some rest. I could sit and watch white paper forever. I don’t get any itch, any boredom that would lead me to doing something. An artist without a hunger for experimentation is as good as dead.

I don’t even feel like copying screen pauses like I did a million times before. It’s now pointless. Why reproduce something if it brings no emotions? It’s already created. Not by me. It feels like I’ve lost the ability to learn. Moving pencil on the paper without it is like raking desert during a sandstorm.

I kinda know where it comes from. Every time I tried to open myself up and create I was getting hit by life, hard. Again and again. And surviving took me to grow this shell. And now I can’t get rid of it. I need it but even if I wanted to drop it and risk everything I couldn’t. So even when I do get calm nights, I can’t force myself to draw anything. Those challenges are about repeating the same thing. Same poses, same shapes. This above… it’s nothing new. I did it 10000 times before. It’s purely mechanical.

If you wanna see a person broken by life… grab a camera. I’m now strong, I can take many punches, I can tolerate trolling and rudeness, insults and sarcasm. But I can do less and less in art every day. It seems impossible today and I don’t think it would get better tomorrow. Should I force myself? Keep scratching the paper hoping it would bring me somewhere? I have vitamins, I have some free time, I have web access, I have tutorials… Could be brain cancer? I dunno. I have no way of checking. Maybe I’m just boring and dumb. Maybe it’s age, same as for everyone else.

Or maybe I’ll feel guilty for pouring more snots onto you guys, maybe I’ll regret going so soft and start drawing in a few days like I never did before. Hope dies last after all. But so far… the facts are grim. It’s been like a year already. Probably two years of no comic pages. Many people are mad with me. I deserve that. I failed. If I had a chance I’d do something but I can’t. I took several days of “hard reset” lately, doing absolutely nothing. Hoping that natural brain mechanisms would start to ask for some “input”. It doesn’t happen. I can lie on my bed looking at that old white ceiling forever. I guess I’m really broken.

Not a very nice “yay, 100k pageviews!” picture. Sorry. I wish I had a guidance. Someone telling me what’s the right thing to do. Well, that would be a luxury to anyone. We’re on the same boat, we don’t know how to live a life since we never did before now. I really don’t know how to get my feelings back. How to turn life colorful again. Any tips would of course be appreciated. Unless it’s a cliche like “believe in yourself” and “take a break, change activity”. Do that, did that, done that. If anything obvious worked I’d be uploading 5 artworks a day by now.

“Don’t make lemonade!”
—–(EDIT) It feels awkward, almost like I fooled everyone, so I have to say that I don’t have a depression. I guess it sounds like it. Depression is more of negative feelings, not a lack of these. I do get tired and upset, sure. But when I get well rested, entertained and fed I can call myself content. But even then I can’t experience the perception I used to have as a child. It’s more like going blind… inside. And as far as I know, there are no magnifying glasses for inner eyes.

It’s nice of you all to try and cheer me up. I appreciate it very much. It also kinda makes me sad because you project your own feelings on me. Former feelings sometimes. Still, I wish I could do the same for you and support you. That’s why I became an artist. To transmit emotions through paper into people’s hearts. Make them feel better. But now… It’s hard to have sympathy that comes from cold-headed knowledge. Knowing how to be kind and being kind are different things. Knowing how to draw sadness and feeling sadness… I’m not sad. And that’s the worst. I wish I had depression, then I could cure it. But having nothing has no solution. I can only hope it would change. To better, to worse, to anything that does have a vector that could be turned around.