7-13-07

7-13-07 a photo by chrismaverick on Flickr.

Day 336 of 365 days.

Ok, I'm maybe a little neurotic. Maybe a little. This is probably one of the most personal posts I've made in a long time. As I sit here editing it, I realize more and more how hard it is to admit these things out loud to anyone especially the entire world. It probably won't seem that way to other people. But trust me, there's some serious soul searching agony going on here.

What follows here is going to sound a little self-wallowing. I want everyone to know that though there are a great many things I am depressed about in life, I'm actually pretty happy about a few things too. These last six months I've been happier creatively than I've been in a very very long time. I've wanted to be an artist since I was seven years old. Really, for all the gazillion people who constantly told me how smart I was and how I should get into computers because that's where the money was. For all the times I've been told that I was "gifted" or a "genius," all I've ever wanted to do for more than a quarter of a century is create. I wanted to draw, write, tell stories and entertain.

The problem is for all the bravado that I present to the outside world, I actually have deep seated self esteem issues. Ask any artist and they'll say they are their own toughest critic. For me, its probably 100 times that. Much like I look at myself and always think I'm too fat. I don't know the answer to a question and I think I'm too stupid. I look at everything I ever write. Everything I ever draw and every photo I ever take and I'm think to myself "oh my god, that is such complete and utter crap. Just fucking give up already."

Or at least I used to. It's funny. These last six plus months without a job I've done a lot of working on my photography. This project. Other projects. And for the first time in as long as I can remember, I find that I can look at my pictures and honestly say to myself "wow, that's not half bad." Sometimes I even look and like them. That might not seem like a big deal. But to me it really is. I want to thank everyone who's ever encouraged me to keep doing what I do, because, its starting to sink in. Happiness that is. I'm enjoying my art. I'm even proud of it. And that's a big step. Its a huge thing to me. Now if only I could make money at it.

As I said before I didn't get the job that I was supposed to get, my unemployment is running out soon, my car is still acting weird, I'm about seven pounds fatter than I want to be and my 33rd birthday is coming up in a couple weeks. Really, if you've been paying attention here at all, you'd probably realize I'm having kinda a crappy year.

Despite my creativity being ok for the first time in almost 15 years (I almost gave up any pretense of being an artist back then, not because of my own insecurities but because the love of it was ripped away from me by my art school, but that's another story), I've actually been battling quite a lot of depression lately. I've been struggling with a lot and its taking its toll on me emotionally, intellectually, and even physically. I'm tired. I'm drained. I'm exhausted.

And I'm done...

So I made a very difficult decision. I can't control my unemployment. I can work at it. I can keep trying. I can even pretend that, "gosh darn it, if you just keep plugging away, everything is going to be ok, that dream job is around the corner: But at the end of the day, sometimes life just sucks. The dream job isn't around the corner. At least not my corner. I can't make Millionaire put me on and I can't guarantee I'd know all the answers anyway. I can't control when my car decides to break down. I can't control that I am about to run out of Unemployment. Hell, I can't even control my urge to smoke cigarettes.

What can I control? Well, I can control my birthday. I've decided that job or no job, I'm having Jammy Jam. I was holding off because I was afraid that I wouldn't have the money. But at the end of the day. This year has sucked. For all the peace of mind that I have gotten through this project, for all the growth I've achieved as an artist, for all the self-esteem that I have developed. The year has still sucked and I'll be damned if I'm going to let it suck for my birthday.

So to hell with it. Jammy Jam is on. Job or no job. Future or no future. Millionaire or destitute. There will be a Jammy Jam at the end of this month and it will be a blast. There will be much drinking and debauchery. There will be live bands. There will be nearly naked girls running around. There will be costume and kissing contests. There will be exciting prizes. And I will enjoy each and every fucking minute of it. At least for one night.

And so help me God, I'll be seven pounds lighter when it happens! And you thought this picture was unrelated to the post.

365 days