cranky like a fox
Oh, Livejournal. I still loves you, even though I never call and I never write, and I never give shout outs for people's birthdays.
I'm so ashamed...
I'm finally out from under the last of my paying clients. Aside from a few things to do for one of my irregularly regular artists at the studio, I am free as a bird to work on my own projects again. Naturally, I'm terrified. They say that with panic attacks, after your first attack your panic attacks are mostly just being afraid of having another attack. In the same vein, I'm not afraid of drawing, I'm afraid of my perfectionism getting in the way and making me overthink everything. I suppose I just have to make peace with pumping out sucky drawings until my drawings slowly become better. We're never terrified of the things we find familiar, right? Hmm.
Speaking of anxiety, I've been pretty okay. Especially nice is relearning how to sleep through the night. Perhaps the Welbutrin is keeping me on a more even keel now that I'm remembering to take it regularly. Still, whatever the reason, I seem to be spacing out more easily and more often. It's like having one of those tiny Zen Rock Gardens, but in my brain. Suddenly I'll realize that I've been staring at the shadow of a cup sitting on the windowsill, and my mind has gone laptop-like into hibernation mode.
There's still a few things in my life that never fail to make my innards start flooding my gut with acid, but even they are becoming familiar, known, and almost quantifiable. While wearying, it's nice that these things no longer have the power to destabilize me completely. Now that I've just jinxed myself, I'm going to try and be productive with my day.
I'm so ashamed...
I'm finally out from under the last of my paying clients. Aside from a few things to do for one of my irregularly regular artists at the studio, I am free as a bird to work on my own projects again. Naturally, I'm terrified. They say that with panic attacks, after your first attack your panic attacks are mostly just being afraid of having another attack. In the same vein, I'm not afraid of drawing, I'm afraid of my perfectionism getting in the way and making me overthink everything. I suppose I just have to make peace with pumping out sucky drawings until my drawings slowly become better. We're never terrified of the things we find familiar, right? Hmm.
Speaking of anxiety, I've been pretty okay. Especially nice is relearning how to sleep through the night. Perhaps the Welbutrin is keeping me on a more even keel now that I'm remembering to take it regularly. Still, whatever the reason, I seem to be spacing out more easily and more often. It's like having one of those tiny Zen Rock Gardens, but in my brain. Suddenly I'll realize that I've been staring at the shadow of a cup sitting on the windowsill, and my mind has gone laptop-like into hibernation mode.
There's still a few things in my life that never fail to make my innards start flooding my gut with acid, but even they are becoming familiar, known, and almost quantifiable. While wearying, it's nice that these things no longer have the power to destabilize me completely. Now that I've just jinxed myself, I'm going to try and be productive with my day.