this is going to be a bit of a sulkfest, sorry.

i think it was just last week that i thought i was getting out of this rut. i finally started drawing regularly again, after years of avoiding it. and i began writing a new story. i've always felt insecure about the things i made, but i'm getting to a point where i think my art is starting to have it's own style.

but for the past few days i've felt like nothing i make will be any good. i haven't touched that story since i started it. even though i want to create things, i can't get myself to actually do so. i know there are things stressing me out and making me feel like a worthless human. but after having that taste of what it would be like to actually function as an artist, i want to keep on going like that.

i've been doing a lot of reflection lately. ever since i figured out (or mostly figured out, anyway) that i'm not who i thought i was, i've been feeling anxious and out of place and absolutely full of self loathing, with a light sprinkle of joy (finally starting to feel like myself a little). this makes things so much harder. my main concern right now is that i want to tell a few people, but i think they'd react badly. i'm not planning on telling everyone, especially considering i'll be off to college soon enough.

i think i have a very pessimistic outlook on this. but the place where i feel comfortable with my body and my place in this world feels so unreachable. i honestly don't think i'll ever get there.