I'm alive I think?

It's been just shy of a year since my last update. I honestly wasn't planning to write anything more in the foreseeable future. But this past week has been one of the worst for me in a long time that I felt the need to speak out into the void again in search of some kind of relief. I've been needing it these past couple of days. I don't know where, I don't know what.

I haven't been talking to individual people (besides Moonski) and friends as much as I used to. Group chats that I regularly partook in, people I texted. I have a hard time keeping up with and responding to DMs. I often don't have the energy to respond, even if I do miss the conversations I used to have.
So I'm left bottling up thoughts and emotions with no where to speak them but out loud again.

It's crazy (depressing, even) how much of my last journal is still relevant today. Very little has changed in my day-to-day life in the past year. I've slowly become a bit of a workaholic, perhaps in some vain attempt to find purpose or personal satisfaction. But once I come home, it's napping, moping or playing games the rest of the day, with the unrelenting anguish over art (and my failures surrounding it) tormenting me day-in, day-out. No matter how productive I am (often barely), I never feel satisfied. And it always comes back to my inability to draw.

For the past couple of months, I've been switching medications to try and wrest control over my depression. Paxil, while easing my anxiety a little, just wasn't cutting it. Bupropion tanked my mood further. Zoloft spiked my anxiety and triggered infrequent but strong anxiety attacks a couple of times.

I'm now almost 2 weeks into Lexapro. So far I've yet notice anything - which can be either a good or bad thing. Switching off Paxil (which I had been on for 5 years) and onto Zoloft triggered bad Brain zaps for a few weeks, and my eye was constantly twitching. I've yet to notice any such sideffects this time, but it's likely too early to derive anything, so far.

I finished building my PC at the start of the year. Beefy, overpowered even. Went with a 3090 + 13600k combo, and dual 4k monitors. I can run anything at Max settings.
And yet, largely as I predicted.. I don't make full use of it often. I've tried picking up 3D again but quickly loose interest. I didn't even install clip studio until a couple months in. I'll go long periods without playing any games, and will some times go days without even using it.

Even after having accomplished more than I ever have in my life in the past year (Including adopting cats, budgeting and planning for the future, going from absolutely nothing to a full-blown office setup and buying my own bike), I'm still at war with myself.

All this to say, I'm still not doing great. Or better.

Its not helped by the events that took place in early June, the effects of which continue to this day. Those of you that follow  Moonski are probably aware of what I'm referring to.

It's been very difficult on both of us, despite our best efforts to move on. And it struck me on a very deep, personal level. Not just because of what had happened. But who it involved.

Coinciding with important matters we faced IRL this week, were new developments related to this which only exacerbated the stress we were going through. I wont go into details. I won't even name the individuals - those of you who know, know.

All the talent in the world means very little when you have no morals.
But it's not like that matters when you're that good at what you do, does it? People will always gladly look the other way and forget wrongdoings if it means another good fap. Some of the responses to all of this (even if in the minority) have been nothing short of disgusting and demoralizing. And the sycophancy that follows has only further soured any desire to want to return to both the community.. And art as a whole.

In the end, the horny will always win over reason. And money will take precedence over decency and morals, if they ever had any in the first place.

None of this is to say that this never would've happened if it weren't for these individuals. It's a common thing. I'm sure it'll happen again. I'd be surprised if somewhere, some far worse sicko (or a consortium of them) aren't already drooling for it; maybe even betting on the same people to repeat what they've done.

These types of people have always existed, many of them openly unapologetic about what they're into. They always will, in this god-forsaken community.

Being exposed for this, then, can only be a good thing. Because why should anyone trust you if respect is dropped the moment they're not looking?

No amount of 'altering the facts' can betray what itself is evidently clear: You are exactly what people think of you.

And we choose who we surround ourselves with - and that defines who we are as a person. For one to enable, to encourage the other with naught but a second thought speaks volumes about who you are.
It's only a joke, until it's a serious proposition.
It's only a fantasy, until you make the transaction.
There were several points, from two different sources, at which common sense should have kicked in and prevented a mistake from going any further. But it did not.
Because it was no mistake. Because the path was paved by held hands.
You are who you chose to be.
You chose the type of people to be friends with.
And you are exactly what people think of you, now.
Context be considered or damned.
But it's okay as long as no one finds out, is it?
Said no one worthy of respect, ever.

----

For the past couple of years, it's become near impossible for me to look at other people's art and not feel shit about mine. It's almost rare that I'll look at art out of enjoyment.

And I looked up to this person. They were, are, one of the people that triggered this feeling the strongest with their sheer skill.

I had really hoped that one day, I could look at their art and not feel miserable in comparison any longer, but be inspired by and driven to take mine even further. As hopeless as I feel about my skills, I yearned for that day to come. It was a personal goal.

We only talked sparingly, but I always wished we could get closer, learn from each other. They said they looked up to my art. I always had a hard time believing that. How could someone so good possibly think that highly of me?

Now, I feel like I lost a good friend - one that I never had.
And now I only dread anything new from them for whatever may be happening behind closed doors.

I feel tired. Drained. Baffled. Betrayed.

For two months now, and time evermore, one question lingers on my mind:

Of all the people that could have done this,

Why did it have to be you?