The Art of Becoming

*Post originally written Feb 06, 2007. More of an emotional rant than a creative tidbit post, just as a heads up.*

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"True happiness is not made in getting something. True happiness is becoming something. This can be done by being committed to lofty goals. We cannot become something without commitment."

— Marvin J. Ashton

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I've been giving myself too much stress lately. Part of it is self-made, even what I would call self-sabatoge, and part of it is the crap being dumped on me by everyone else, good and bad.

I'm stressed manga-wise because, while being a graphic storyteller/manga artist is what I want to be more than anything in the world, I keep feeling like I am getting farther and farther behind in my goals and ambitions. Everywhere I keep reading that the window of opportunity for aspiring novice artists is shrinking rapidly—that a year ago was the opportune time, but the vacuum of jobs is being rapidly filled—and I'm so afraid that by the time I am ready to enter that window it will be gone. It just feels like a lot of things—my late start, my not up to snuff drawing skills, my real job, my wanting to have a life—have caused me to stumble at the starting line, and now I am in a mad rush to catch up.

Then I read about yet another artist being signed up to Tokyopop, and the waves of guilt just became a veritable tsunami of grief. Because while I am super happy for him, I want that to be me SOOOOO bad. And I looked at his style, which is unique and has this Ad-for-a 50's-housewife vibe crossed with House Industries' design, and I love it, and it jsut made me despair even more that I am nowhere near that level yet.

I think these feelings are exacerbated a little by the fact that I have felt mildly depressed for the last week or so, and that I have not been taking my meds for what feels like forever. (Side story: my ADD doctor's office says I didn't pay one of my copays—which is nuts because I always pay them up front, but I've decided not to contest it—so apparently they sent me these letters asking me to pay up, which I never got/opened because a lot of my bills are automatically paid, and suddenly last month I got served court papers at work, saying to pay up. Why they couldn't just CALL ME or send it to collections I don't know, but they didn't. I had stopped taking my meds shortly before that anyway, and then getting served and calling up an annoyed office aid to ascertain why has made me dread going back to see him. I love my doctor, a lot, but I'm so nervous about what he might say to all of this. And since it's been too long I HAVE to have another appointment before my meds are refilled, and I am so afraid that he will be mad or worse, disappointed, and refuse me as a patient anymore. Maybe that sounds dumb, but before this I would have thought that was dumb too.

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This post was written last year, Feb. 6 according to Blogger. I have a ton of old drafted posts I need to get up, but I felt like this one is quite poignant right now, because it's a little over a year later and I feel exactly the same way. EXACTLY. I can't even remember writing this, but it reflects the same emotions and problems I currently face. I haven't made any changes to its original version except for one clarification; I'm not even sure quite where my train of thought was headed. I assume somewhere positive but who knows.

Reading it has shown me that I really need to get back on ADD meds. I saw immense improvement on generic Adderal when I was on it; I didn't get bogged down in things and got so much done creatively. Most of my biggest spurts of artistic energy in the last couple of years occurred when I was on Adderal: Angsty Bishy, getting the random shirt ideas we'd joke about sketched out and actually done; starting up CafePress, DeviantArt, LJ, even this blog, to name a few examples. Not that the drug made me more creative (in fact I resisted meds because I was afraid they would shut that part of me away) but that I was able to channel all of my creative energies in a much more productive way. I really miss those days. And I've noticed changes at work too; I used to be much more organized and remembered the little things and got all the project steps completed at correct intervals. Not so much anymore; no major mishaps but too many close calls. I'm constantly late; I stay after to make up for it but it's frustrating. Plus my office is a complete wreck, much more than usual; most creative people are messy, but I can't find anything even with my own special messy organizational system and I'm sure I frighten the clients when they come in.

I went off my meds for a couple of reasons. First I would simply forget to refill my prescription; I had to run to my doctor's each time for one, and would forget until my pills had run out. The side effects were also hard to deal with; I got extreme nausea, basically morning sickness every day and feeling sick the whole day and it is horrible to contemplate living the rest of my life that way, and also had my blood pressure, which is normally somewhere between 110/70 and 120/80, skyrocket, which scared me a lot. I also couldn't afford the slow-release Adderal meds, which I do better on (regular Adderal is like drinking a caffeinated drink for me; a big spike, then by the end of the dose I've crashed. Not always the best thing.) Oh, and the served papers for my outstanding medical fees? Over $700 I paid out, for simple doctor's visits and copays, that my insurance should have paid for or that I swear I paid. I probably should have contested it, but there's no way I could have hired a lawyer and paid THOSE fees on top of everything else. My problem is that I'm a pretty honest person, so being on the wrong side of the law terrifies me. I would call the law offices for the doctors, and while I know I'm not their client they refused to tell me ANYTHING, even what I should do to pay them. It was ridiculous, and I would hang up the phone and just cry, I felt so lost. Thank goodness those days are behind me and all of that got taken care of somehow. But I refuse to put myself back in such a situation, and if I go back to my ADD doctor who I love it's possible the same thing could happen all over again. I should go talk to him. I should do a lot of things.

I'm also off my Synthroid because I switched obstetricians, from a cold woman who obviously didn't care about my concerns but at least prescribed me Sythroid (should I go back?), to a male OBG who thinks I don't need Synthroid at all (I have HALF A THYROID from my tumor-removing surgery and have all the symptoms of hypothyroidism, how can I NOT have it even when blood work is normal?), so my metabolism is basically cut in half. I feel really sluggish all the time, even when I get enough sleep. And no matter how much or little I exercise or eat my body shape refuses to change.

I feel so stupid sometimes. I'm in my mid twenties, own my own house and car, pay all my major bills (well, minus some of the medical ones I guess) on time, have a good job and great goals for the future, have two cats who love me most of the time, a church calling I love, and good family and friends. Yet I feel so helpless to fix anything; I'm ineptly juggling all these balls and I'm scared for the inevitable crash. Elicia has been bugging me about getting back on meds, quite vocally in fact. And I know I need to do something, and now. But It feels like I am swimming upstream, all the time, and someone keeps pouring more water into the stream and I keep fighting harder and harder, with barely the same results. I know I need to change my technique or I'll never make it, but part of me is afraid that if I try to change things too much at this point I'll just end up drowning instead. Okay, enough with the metaphors, I promise; I'm just not sure how better to describe what I feel.

All is not lost though; I just need to keep moving forward (yay Robinson movie, my new mantra for when I mentally beat myself up) and fix what I can. I'm just not sure how to fix everything in time for the con next month, the trip we are taking this summer, and all the work projects piling up. But hopefully I won't be repeating this same moaning and groaning this time next year; hopefully things will have begun to change at last, in big or small ways. That's all I could really ask or hope for at this point.