chakraheathen

Putting aside the usual guilt trips and obligations of the holidays, I feel that my transition to Georgia is complete. I was told I left a 'good job' repetitively by family to the point of imminent nausea, but that's all I felt like I had up there; I don't miss Connecticut (Besides family.) I really don't.

I don't really hold the New Year in high regard (Or other dates, besides my wife's birthday and our anniversary.), because I usually believe change is a possibility year around, but the close of 2010 seems to have me concerned this year more than anything else!


My personal New Year's resolution for 2011, besides finding a good job (A given.) is to address my caliginous anxiety of artistic improvement.


Back in 2005 during my final semester in art school, I was criticized VERY harshly for having goals that didn't go in tandem with their agenda; also, they told me I didn't have a future as an artist. When the reality of me being delusional about relying on myself financially in this trade hit home, it slowly disintegrated my ability to draw and improve, though my creative drive was strong. I became afraid of parents, guilty for not being a better family member, dissatisfied with a string of failed friendships, and concerned about my diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome. But I became sensitive to criticism and would often become shy and afraid when my artistic side was discovered out of fear of being put down, exploited (LOL DRAH MEH A TATUU REIGHT NOW!) or people exaggerating the extent of my talents. Yet, despite years of going to college and not making much of my skills, my artistic side is hungry after being denied and quelled for years. I want to rediscover this side of me that brought me joy and satisfaction, so that I can love myself for who I am once again.


For too long I've let my own trepidation divagate me from improvement! I will explore my right brain again and feel proud of it for once. I still doodle, but I feel that completing more of my works will improve my self-esteem. I've prepared my sketchbook for 2011, as well as compiling more scrap sheets for scratch paper. People with Asperger's Syndrome are known for their extreme reactions to criticism, but as an artist I need to take it better in stride.


My agenda put into simple steps:

- Work on human and animal anatomy; will rely more on photo references for poses and such.

- Work on my perception of colors; for some reason I have a lot of trouble allocating my palette when it comes to images; My wife, however, is. (Bother bother bother.) I consider myself more of an inker.

- Develop the lore and background of my Promised Ark universe; though my characters feel original in regards to design and have back stories and such, perhaps solidifying some cool, original mythology will help give me a bigger canvas to work with, and increase the intrigue of the world of Bestia-Zhod.

Well, here's to the New Year! I'll work hard at it!

This happened today, though I have had it happen a few times before in my life. It's one of my WORST pet peeves!

Say you're fixing a food item like hot dogs; someone you're living with passes by and glances into your shoulder, and before you can acknowledge their presence, they fly into a rage or try to guilt trip you with something like,"And you know, I totally DIDN'T have plans for those!!" or "We were going to use those later!!"

Now, if I had accidentally gotten into someone else's food item by accident (Which they should have labeled as theirs to begin with, so failure on their part.) I would understand, apologize, and offer to put it away and make something else. Problem solved, and I find an alternative, right? Here's where the suck comes in:

"Go ahead! Make them!"

"Fine! Eat them!"

"Whatever! They're yours!"

Wait, what? To me, this is probably one of the most despicable things you can do to someone emotionally. It comes off as mean-spirited, sadistic and rude, because rather than trying to fix or solve a problem so that a conflict like this is avoided, it leaves you an empty and terrified shell as you consume said-food item that won't fill that gap before the gaze of the person that confronted you.

I don't understand a lot of people; do they deprive some sort of sick and twisted pleasure from this? It's completely unnecessary and counterproductive to a good relationship. People are fucking insane, I swear!

It's 5:20 AM, I'm getting dressed from a shower and someone calls my name abruptly from the hallway...WTF? I stole your water? I never grew up in a goddamn house with two showers? You're pissed off at me? You're angry at and GLARING at me? That's great to know, I just know today's going to be a WONDERFUL day. Fucking great.

The good news is that now I'm a Licensed Massage Therapist. That's a plus, right?

I want to get the fuck out of this goddamn house.

I am emotionally in a lot of pain; I keep trying to convince myself otherwise, I tell myself that I will eventually get better at art, find a job to provide for Natalie and I, improve my social skills and life, get over my fear of religion and the world around me, but I still find myself fighting a losing battle. My self-esteem and lack of motivation just keeps sinking lower and lower, and I keep beating myself up because I can't seem to appreciate the good things that occur in life, or enjoy my small successes anymore. I feel alone when I really shouldn't.

Being raised a 'special child' and held up on a pedestal all my life by my mother (Because of Asperger's Syndrome.) being praised all the time, bearing all of these talents, and being this sort of awesome messiah to everyone has piled up more expectations on me than I can handle. It caused me to remain emotionally immature, and I become very self-destructive even over the slightest of criticisms or mistakes.

I used to connect to everyone through my art, because I felt like it was my only redeeming quality, the only way I could connect with people and exploit my overactive imagination. But art school caused me pain because I watched people all around me succeed and gain status and reputation, and it made me cowardly, self-loathing, and jealous. I am able to write a story and create a world that feels great to escape to, but the focus keeps coming back to me as a person, and I am highly disappointed with who I am. The Promised Ark series I want to write seems like the only thing I can rely on to find fulfillment for my existence. It's the only thing I am good for, thus why I invest myself in it in all ways.

But it angers me that I cannot manifest it on paper. I cannot get anatomy right anymore, write dialogue worth a shit, work on perspective, or even try to improve my art, because I am a perfectionist and afraid of failure. But in my head...it's all there! It makes sense, it works, it is beautiful. But I can't seem to get it to sprout. And when I see my wife, whom I bonded to partially because of art, learn, grow, and succeed, I have to combat feelings of jealousy.

I love her so much, but she seems like the only one participating in this relationship. If only I had my shit together, I could initiate activities with her, love and understand her better, be her bastion when times are tough and stormy, just be...the perfect husband, show that perhaps, my family is capable of having some sort of stable marriage for once. I enjoy the time I spend with her, but I wish I could reach out to her more. I am so hard on myself in that regard, amongst many things.

I have been crying more and discovering how good it feels to sleep. Sleeping is a great escape, next to eating. When I do, I feel like I can forget all the things that cause me emotional pain. It feels good to be down here where people don't always judge you based on your job and social life, though I would say that I am exposed to my fair share of right-wing nut-jobbery, and listening to more than half the people around here spout their self-righteous judgmental hypocrisy makes me want to throw up in my mouth.

From what I have been hypothesizing for the last 5-6 years, I suffer from a horrifying lack of self-esteem, because I have always hated myself for not living up to be the kind of person I've always wanted to be. In order to address this, I've been going to the library to try and find books to read in order to change things for the better. So far, I'm reading The Six Pillars of Self-Esteem by Nathaniel Branden; it's helped me gain some perspective on my own problems, since I've been long out of psychological therapy. I may try to read some more books on being a better husband and such. Also, once we are insured again, I will be putting myself back into psychotherapy and back on anti-depressants.

I've been getting into D&D with my brother-in-law and his wife, and it seems to help me with my loneliness issues; but they live a ways off (And we're looking to move into the same neighborhood they are in.)

If I let this go on any longer, it will tear me apart and destroy my marriage. I can't let this happen.

Goddamn you, depression. X_X

Ever feel like everything you do is never good enough?

Making countless mistakes around your friends and family, failing to establish any long lasting friendships, fearing what lies ahead in your financial and vocational future, and watching the dreams you held onto your whole life sort of fade? (Referring to my ideal self as an intellectual artist and writer.) I'm sort of at that point right now. Reality has proved otherwise that I have no hope as an artistic and intelligent individual.

Being diagnosed with distheimia, a long term form of low-grade depression doesn't exactly help. I constantly tell myself that it's just a phase and that it will pass, but doesn't it change your mind when these feelings are more frequent and longer lasting? Is it really just going to go away by itself?

I struggle with emotional immaturity being on the autism spectrum; I am starting to loathe the people who gave birth to me for convincing me that I was special, witty, intelligent, different, and in some way better than anyone else. Before I was born, my mother feeds me this horseshit story about how God would somehow 'cure' me and show me the way, that I would influence hearts and minds and charm the people around me and defy the odds. That messiah complex that I've been fed my whole life has finally collapsed around me, and I begin to realize that perhaps, I am not as 'special' or intelligent' or 'witty' as people once wrote me off as.

The feelings of inadequacy, uselessness and shame have followed me my whole life, and the onset of these periods of extreme depression are getting much worse. I lie to my family and what few friends I have, to tell them that I'm alright, that I'm cured of my hopelessness. Deep down inside, I don't want to burden people with my feelings, even my loved ones. I have a hopeless and pessimistic worldview under my fake alibi as a plucky and well-going young man. But I never learn from my countless mistakes. I push others away from me, or dont talk to them altogether because I wonder if I can be honest with anyone. I have a hard time just 'feeling better.' I never fucking learn, and I cant seem to feel things from other people's perspectives as I should.

I have to do something about this. I need to get back on anti-depressants, and just accept the inevitable weight gain. I need to open up to my loved ones somehow. And I need to get my life on track down here in Georgia, or else...well, I've been at very sunken emotional lows in my life, and that place makes you consider drastic measures when it comes to escaping it. See what I'm implying?

But, where do I start? I hope I can figure it out. But it scares me!

The routes are planned, the movers are booked, the job has been left behind...and now we're waiting for the day to GTFO of Connecticut for good. I'm looking forward to it personally as a change of scenery, and I think my wife needs to be home with her family.

I'll admit that I'm still pestered by occasional bouts of angst and jealousy pertaining to my lack of good artistic exploits since we lived together for the last year or so, but I'm learning to accept that I am facing a major transitional period in my life, and that it will take even MORE time to adjust. In the end, I think it will be worth it!

And I still have plenty of time in my life ahead of me...

But yeah. Two more dwindling days here in this expensive, dwarf-hamster shaped state and it's off to the Great Empire State of the South. Yeehaw!

My first impressions with the new position in my company is a positive one; I feel like I'm using my observation skills more and being less of a trained monkey who opened boxes for a living.

As I promised, the bipolar prophetic coworker from the last entry has returned with more of her vast Biblical bullshit. So I'm taking my 2:45 break and sitting pretty in the break room with my Special K granola bar when she sits at my table. Fine. We engage in what seems to be a pleasing banter about art when Mr. Gullible (also from last entry.) sits down as well. He opens the triad by grabbing his head and trembling, looking really, really, irate. I fear either a panic attack or a few loose teeth. But he just blurts out the line,"They're in my fuckin' head, man! Theyre in my fuckin' HEAD! Make them stop!"

She instantly switches faces and looks at him, assuring that he'll survive the coming apocalypse, once again under the guidance of her and her seraph friends (Along with a couple of spirit wolves.) And turns to me, repeating her stories about the dreams she has of giving birth to the new Jesus. I reply that dreams are almost never logical, and in a subtle gesture, inquire on proof of this. Her basis of her argument involves...seeing the movie Legion. What the crap?

For weeks she's been ranting and raving about how she'll "know the answers to my destiny," and,"God will finally give me my purpose in the end days," by watching this movie that her parents wont let her see. I state that Legion is a Hollywood movie that was not written by God as a sign of some prominent miracle that will signify the End Days, and told her to get over it and enjoy the movie rather than worship it as truth, which was what it was actually made for. She gives me a blank stare, and changes the subject to her supposed death at 33 by the hands of the Antichrist, and that the Grim Reaper visits her in her dreams.

Red flags go up. Mr. Gullible trembles neurotically, head in hands. I promptly leave the table, pondering the theory that people really do get hung up on the End Times. Are we really that self destructive? Maybe if we spent less time crying about the end of the world and more time trying to enjoy the time we have on Earth and using our experiences to make the world a better place for oursevles and others, we'd be a lot less fucked up.

So, at my job in the Walgreens Distribution Center, they occasionally offer internal job postings to allow you to switch departments, which an employee can do once a year, but they must work more than 40-something days. My current job is Detrash, which is opening boxes and emptying product into internal transportation tubs to be sent to Shipping. I applied for a department known as Mission Control, which monitors the conveyors and the rest of the building, and they circumnavigate the facility to keep the other departments informed of things. It seemed up my alley, so I signed up.

The process involves a four-part computer test; Microsoft Word, Excel, Internet Explorer and a typing test. Excel killed me on the last try, and I had to wait a year to try again. On my second try, I came back swinging and passed with flying colors. I hope it turns out well, but a new department...yippy skippy! Let's see what its like when the next week shows up.

About the Apocalypse; I have a female bipolar coworker (and uber-Twilight fangirl.) that really likes me, but she has....issues. She is artistic like I am, but accuses her parents of over-medicating her, which I understood at first. However, she has severe delusions of grandeur. She claims that she is an 'indigo child.' has psychic super powers, and takes walks in pyramids via past lives. With a STRAIGHT face, too. She often bugs me, other coworkers, and even security and higher-ups about her supposed abilities, and I sort of nod and say okay, since I don't have the gall to call her out on any of it; I'm a live and let be kind of guy. Don't get me wrong, I'm a fantasy graphic novelist in the making, and I eat this stuff up like candy for storytelling purposes, but I know my limits!

Anyways, during my break, she is indoctrinating a fellow coworker about this outrageous prophecy that is a hodgepodge of 2012 metaphysical crap and the book of Revelations from the Bible. She states that she knows a friend who is a seraph that can undo the Seals, and that she herself is the mother of the child, whom will grow to be the second coming of Jesus. She claims that my friend's funk over not making his daily rate pertains to a lack of expression of his psychic powers. He looks at her confusedly, but he BUYS IT. (Keep in mind, my coworkers are NOT the sharpest tools in the shed.) He's begging her to show him the way to avoid destruction by the super evil Antichrist, and here she is, warning of him not to listen to people who sound like saviors, YET FUCKING CONTRADICTS HER STATEMENT BY ORDERING HIM TO FOLLOW HER AND HER FRIEND WITHOUT QUESTION. She then turns to me and makes a statement about my psychic powers, and asks if I would allow her to train me at her house on how to use them for good. And then she ends it by stating that a coworker she is dating will die trying to save her from being gunned down by the Antichrist's forces...and then says that she will die when she turns 33. Lovely. I decline politely without throwing up in my mouth. She then makes a promise to tell more people about the coming apocalypse and enlighten them to the truth, whether they want to hear it or not. And I wonder why her parents medicated her to begin with!

I know MOST of the book of Revelation by heart, and I can definitely tell that well...she is definitely not the woman fleeing from the dragon. She pulls these stunts off with people all the time! I find that she is very lonely, and I speculate that she is sadly resorting to going as far as shaping herself into a science fiction heroine just to attract a social circle. Which I find to be, unfortunately, pathetic.

These incidents happen so frequently, that I will try to post more journals on her antics. They're just too good, I cant make this shit up!

Well, It's been awhile since I actually posted something....but yeah. I turn 23 today, which I suppose is something spectacular. Me and my wife went to go see District 9 on Saturday, which was actually a very clever take on the alien movie genre; it is sort of like the Office in the beginning, with security camera and documentary footage, but then it dumps hardcore pureed action right on your movie-going face. Watching those thugs in the NMU go 'pop' was damn good fun, since I despise weapons contractors as people. (Cough-cough-Blackwater-cough.) Ah well...It was fun times. Finished it with some well-timed Mexican Food at my favorite joint.

I've finally gotten the chance to play the fabled Final Fantasy 7; the reference book of almost all anime fans, the supposed must-play for all video gamers, the cream of the RPG crop...It's quite fun, although I have other RPG's I perfer over it, namely Grandia 2, Lost Odyssey the classic Phantasy Star series. But its a refreshing experience since I have been deprived of video games for awhile, thanks to my Wii getting owned by a power surge about a month and a half ago.

Another thing I want to mention is that I have found a potential use for my LiveJournal; I may use it as a sort of sketchpad for ideas I am throwing around for a graphic novel series I plan to write. More updates on this in the future!

And now, to actually get to my real job. >.>