There was a reason why I stopped doing art. I kept telling myself that it was all going to be okay and that I would eventually get over the feeling of not wanting to do art anymore.
I lied to myself.
I lied every day to myself.
Feeling scared, losing my passion for so many things, becoming monotonous and boring, I honestly thought it was just a phase I was going through. This however was part of a lie I told myself to assure myself that everything was fine. Everything was perfect. What more could I have asked for in life?
...
The abusive relationship I was in. That's what more I could have asked for.
Three years. Three whole years of being told in so many words that I was stupid, not good enough, not compliant enough, not willing to do anything with my partner enough, and even when I nearly died from having a TIA (a mini-stroke in other words) due to the stress I was put under, things still didn't change. I was on my way to making changes, I was on my way to improving things and when I realized that I had control, all I had to do was take it and put my foot down and that's when things finally changed. It was just that one more "Go fuck yourself" and that one more name calling session that ended it... and now I'm finally free.
Free to indulge my passions, free to love life again and that dark shadow that's always been hanging over me is finally gone. I don't feel it anymore.
I'm still healing but today was one of those days where I just felt more alive than I have in a very long time. I just finished building a new PC which I've taken to callling "Beastie" and with a new tablet and my trusty Photoshop, I'm ready to return to the world of art. (ZOMG, my Skyrim screenshots are teh uber...>w<)
I hope no one has forgotten me, if you have that's totally okay. I'm just here for the win now.
