Gizmo

I can't sleep. Every waking thought I think is focused on how well I 'preformed' over the week. Everything I do has to be perfect. You said this wrong. You hurt his feelings. You're gaining too much weight. You're not learning fast enough. Youre not pretty enough. But even with those goals, mistake after mistake after mistake is made. Get out. Get out of my head and leave me alone. I want to run away from my skin and leave it to rot in the Texas summer heat. I want to run away and start all over so no one remembers who I am. Everything. Has. To. Be. Perfect.

Life is not journey, they lied. It's an improv show, and the audience are professional critics thinking You're preforming a rehearsed show. I try to not stutter and act like I've previously blocked my movements, rehearsed my lines like Bible verses, put as much emotion into my voice as I physically can. But I still mess up. I stutter and lisp, I stumble and fall, I freeze and draw blank. And then the rush of embarrassment and shame flood my body because I know I am WRONG. I see the expression on the judges face and I know they want me dead. I hyperventilate, I panic, I feel tears run down my face as my body burns with shame and despair, but the show must go on. Deep down, I know this is unfair, I know I'm unprepared, I know I'm just doing my best. But that doesn't matter. THEY. Don't. Care. Their eyes cut into my back like whips. Their words choke me like a noose. No. No no no, this can't be right. I tried, I tried my best. Get out. GET OUT OF MY MIND! I have to start over. There's no going back. I can't come back from this. They all HATE ME. Everyone knows I was WRONG.

I hate that feeling. That feeling is the bane of my existence. The gut wrenching, heart sinking, feeling that you. Fucked. UP. And that there's nothing you can do to fix it and make people forget what you did. Every time you see them you're reminded of how you FAILED THEM. You know they're probably forgotten. But that voice. That nagging, demonic voice from the depth of hell creeps into your ear and festers in your brain like a maggot in a wound. THEY WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU. You consider starting over, changing how you look, abandoning everything you love, because YOU'RE TOO FAR GONE.

Oh and if you think the social anxiety is bad? Your thoughts aren't safe either. Every once in a while, your mind will wonder. Wonder a little too far. You'll look at a child. A child you've never met before, as happy as ever minding their own business. And then a thought will come. A disgusting, evil thought only a monster made of hate could think of. Why did I think that? Do I want to do that? Am I really THAT HORRIBLE? You panic again. As the days go by, more and more awful thoughts and dreams come up. Your friends can't help you. No one can help you. No one can know you're such a VILE human being. Especially the only people who tolerate you.

You don't know what to do, your mind races for an outlet, something, anything, to get rid of the anxiety and stress. You see things out of the corner of your eye, you hear things, a tightness builds in your throat and you can't move. Run. Run away. They know what you did so run. Don't let them catch you. As you think, you're mind beomes a tornado and you're standing in the middle of it. You can't tell what's real and what's not and you're frozen, you know none of this is true, but it gets to you. You can see yourself fall apart but as time goes by you, it becomes a 1st person perspective. You feel like screaming but you can't scream, running but you can move, cry but your eyes are wide and altert. You're scared and paralyzed as you fight for your sanity. Next thing you know your sitting in a room, finally being able to see yourself again. You feel like you're in your own skin again.

The second drawing I made when I was in like 7th grade 😭

Tried out a new brush, how we feelin about it chat? Also im probably gonna make the alter redraws a series because a lot of my art is DATED