You know. At the end of last year, I told myself that 2020 would probably be a good year. I haven’t had many good years in a row now so I really want this one to be better, but I guess 2020 had other plans. January has just ended and I’ve gotten lots of shit thrown my way. My wrist hasn’t gotten much better so I went to my physiotherapist to see what we could do about it and after speaking to him and him checking out my wrist he thinks I actually might have arthritis in my thumb instead of de Quervain. So he sent a message to a doctor I was going to meet the next day that I was in need of an x-ray since he wasn’t in a position to approve one. Just that news sucks a bit. The next day I went to meed the doctor and happily she approved the x-ray so I’m going to have that as soon as the might be able to do it. Sadly, she told me I might have a cyst on my right ovary and I need to get an ultrasound to see if it’s there and how big it might be. Great! After all of that, I contacted the tattoo artist that I was going to be for my internship and he told me that he actually wasn’t going to bring me in now. That it might be sometime when he has moved his tattoo shop to a bigger place. When? He doesn’t know. It might be this year or a few years into the future. It would’ve been nice if he had told me this when I asked him about it last year in August. You know, just so I don’t get my hopes up for nothing. And just to end January on a bang, I get a fucking pimple on my eyelid! I’ve never had that before so thanks January…
I can absolutely say that a lot of drastic thoughts have been going through my mind lately after all of this. I thought about just quitting school and doing whatever. I thought about giving up and just going home instead to lay in bed and not give a fuck again, because nothing I plan for seems to work out anyway. It feels like life is telling me that all I’m going to do is work with things that I hate and that drain the life and joy from me day after day until I can’t take it anymore. I know it’s not like that but it’s extremely hard not to think that way. I’ve never cared much for money or fame. All I’ve wanted was to draw and do things that make me smile. Being able to wake up in the morning and not wonder if it’s worth just calling in sick because I just don’t want to do it anymore. I’ve done that for so many years, I don’t want to do it anymore. I can’t do it anymore. It mostly feels like I’m just grasping at straws that aren’t even mine, but since I don’t have anything else I just have to go with it because what else can I do. I can’t really help but feel as a waste of space. I can’t help but feel that I’m not supposed to be happy. That I’m just supposed to do what life throws at me because that’s the best I’m going to get, and I don’t want that. But then again, life’s been pretty shitty overall ever since I was young so why wouldn’t it continue being shit?
Whatever this year throws my way I’m going to continue my work and try my best to maybe, one day, achieve my goal of being a full-time illustrator. Maybe one day..
