ask for what you want
Moods swing. Yesterday I was crafting a floormat out of spare rope I'd taken to the burn that made it back, and some acrylic yarn, and thinking smugly "fuck, I MAKE shit. useful shit. that's awesome." and thinking how there's nothing I've seen on pinterest (aside from knitting and food) that's ever produced a fear of my inability to make it, if not make it better.
Discussion on this year's gift giving began last night. I'm sure it is not news to anyone that the holidays is one of the highest times of suicide. Poor job market being what it is, depression also creeping in (two things which are very comorbid). I don't even feel like anything I can DO or make is worthy of gift-giving; my art feels so tiresome, crocheted hats and scarves are tiresome. It's all so tiresome. I can do nothing useful.
I think, what would I like? I can make them that:
- Nifty socks. But I cannot knit socks.
- Bookcases. But I cannot build bookcases.
- Baked goods! But I am a terrible baker.
- stories? But I'm inarticulate.
- songs? *sobs*
But I am reminded of someone who, I found out later, cherished a doodle I'd done on an index card for them, and how sad they were when it went missing.
My mother hated getting things I'd made, anyone had made-- she said it was cheaping out. I've depression and imposter syndrome -- it generally doesn't occur to me that, for most anyway, a piece of my art would be so important, let alone a doodle.
Asking people for things, or even just telling them appreciatively of what you think of their skills, might help - you know, both yourself, and them. I'd have painted this person anything they wanted, whenever they wanted-- I always felt so very lacking in their wake; knowing at the time that they cared so much about an index card would've meant the world to me, it would've been a gift FOR ME.
I wish I knew what use I am to people (for were of different uses to different people) so I could figure what gift I could make for them.
Discussion on this year's gift giving began last night. I'm sure it is not news to anyone that the holidays is one of the highest times of suicide. Poor job market being what it is, depression also creeping in (two things which are very comorbid). I don't even feel like anything I can DO or make is worthy of gift-giving; my art feels so tiresome, crocheted hats and scarves are tiresome. It's all so tiresome. I can do nothing useful.
I think, what would I like? I can make them that:
- Nifty socks. But I cannot knit socks.
- Bookcases. But I cannot build bookcases.
- Baked goods! But I am a terrible baker.
- stories? But I'm inarticulate.
- songs? *sobs*
But I am reminded of someone who, I found out later, cherished a doodle I'd done on an index card for them, and how sad they were when it went missing.
My mother hated getting things I'd made, anyone had made-- she said it was cheaping out. I've depression and imposter syndrome -- it generally doesn't occur to me that, for most anyway, a piece of my art would be so important, let alone a doodle.
Asking people for things, or even just telling them appreciatively of what you think of their skills, might help - you know, both yourself, and them. I'd have painted this person anything they wanted, whenever they wanted-- I always felt so very lacking in their wake; knowing at the time that they cared so much about an index card would've meant the world to me, it would've been a gift FOR ME.
I wish I knew what use I am to people (for were of different uses to different people) so I could figure what gift I could make for them.