Darkling Artist

I'm chronically disappointed in myself...

I haven't drawn anything worthwhile... At least to me. I thought once I settled into my new home, that I would settle into myself enough to find my drive to create. The desire is there.... Strong, eager... But the will, the skill, the patience and consciousness needed feels out of reach..

Trying out Acrylic Markers...

I'm finally in a place where I can buy some art sets. I immediately went for acrylic Markers and tried them on all my sketch paper (bristol, black paper, tan)

First thoughts; the paint is weak. 😅 As much as I really want to like them, layering and getting the strokes to blend more seemlessly was a practice in futility. And it takes a bit to dry. I tried to make my mistake artistic but I gave up.

Kimchi

Rant Incoming; I've been struggling with a painful flare up, medication changes and other things that has sucked up the motivation I had at the start of the year. And it makes me deeply disappointed in myself as I had plans and ideas to further along my channel and make myself comfortable to create more openly.

There are days where I just want time to stop. I'm not sure if it is because I feel overwhelmed by the pain or overwhelmed by how life doesn't stop even though my nervous system is on the fritz. Either way, I feel frozen in place and somewhere in that inner mess, auto pilot takes over and I'm suddenly disregarding all the warning bells. Some envy me for the way I can stay home, and lounge - but they don't know what I'm really doing; I'm haunting these walls, cursed to yearn for something productive in a body that takes offense to the mere thought of movement.

Lounging, to me, is a persistent battle. I don't mean to get poetic but I've long since found the words "I hurt" to be on the lesser side of helpful. Pain to you is probably a comfortable, perhaps a little exhausted, ache after a long day of work. Mine, mine feels cruel. If feel as though the burn I'm experiencing growing from the pads of my feet up to the small of my back is some sort of curse that is just destorying my bloodline. And no, that's not much of an exaggeration. I lost my mother and grandmother to cancer. I had two uncle's too, one passed from (want to guess?) Cancer, and the other was riddled with as many - if not more than - arthritis and bone damage than I have. Not to mention diabetes. My oldest sister, my mother's first born, passed from a long battle with lukemia. As far as I remember (we'll get back to that). And if you're wondering about my father, he just passed from cancer ( end of 2025 ) and his mother struggled with many chronic conditions as well.

It's safe to say that trauma is probably the least of my troubles. I've circled around my issues for years, trying to pretend that my strength came with emotional resilience but what was really happening was an internal scream. An unimaginable ache that I swallowed down because the loss of my mother came with the lesson that the world was a lot.. A lot of managing other people's emotions, controlling your own for the sake of peace and swallowing up every bit of pain like a trained fighter. I did my best to maintain some semblance of myself, but I lost a lot of self confidence and trust along the way.

Acknowledging all this comes with sacrifice, but for once, the price doesn't seem as bad given how good the outcome is. I'm settling into skin that feels like my own, my thoughts aren't as clouded and I'm no longer my only safey net. Loneliness use to feel like my only escape. The only space I had where I didn't feel like my needs were outlandish or impossible. I'm finally able to acknowledge that my hyper independence came from a life of disappointment and abandonment... That it's okay that I need help. And I can ask for it without backlash.

I ache in sympathy for the girl in those pages, but I'm self aware enough to know I am that girl. That same resilient girl that endured loneliness, abuse and all that life threw at her despite the physical toll. I say this, not to say that I would have rather not have suffered, but to say that the fight was well worth the reward.

𝕤𝕚 𝕧𝕚𝕤 𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕖𝕞, 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕒 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕦𝕞

A genuine John Wick fan would recognize this phrase, and you would be right that I heard it first in the movie but it stuck with me, given all that I survived. Yeah, I could be referring to my cancer at 13 but I think I earned the right to highlight everything else that followed after that. Honestly, cancer was the easiest. I had to build this deeply introverted, but self aware to the point of inner brutality version of myself just to find the peace I'm currently basking in.

Trying to focus through the pain~

I've been trying to design this character for a little more than a year. She's been sitting in my head, shifting and changing, making every sketch more different than the last. I always linger on a few features... Making her constant almost on purpose, once her story is fleshed out and written down properly.

I struggle to get out of my head, but it's a work in progress. I just have to remind myself that the only one holding onto deadlines is me. It's why I draw what I like when I want - because trying to follow trends and draw what people want to see isn't realistic in the long run. I've learned that, over time, it's what you build up on your own merit that matters. And that's who I want to be.

I've tried making several online journals in the last decade or so... And I feel so old writing that. I'm only turning 36 in October, yet I somehow feel as old and as wise as someone in their late 50s.

I don't say that with any confidence in myself. I'm learning just as everybody else, I just feel like I was forced to learn more a lot quicker than someone else my age. And I'm not saying that just because my daily existence has been reduced to catering to multiple body aches and aliments. It'll be very helpful if the vast majority of able-bodied people keep in mind that pain doesn't let you think. Just writing this has me going through long pauses... When you're hyper aware of every inch of your body against your will, it's impossible to wrap your head around daily life. At least for me.

I have experienced so much in just a short few years that I can't help but trauma dump every time I'm at a keyboard, and I'm forced to introduce myself in some way... It's hard not to because all I want to do is present myself as someone safe, knowledgeable but still willing to learn and walk through scenarios. But whenever I share, I can't help but feel like I'm just taking the spotlight or drawing too much attention to myself. So I say nothing.... Sometimes nothing at all, because I'm trying not to talk about me...

I've been homebound for around five years now. I stopped working in 2021 because being on my feet/legs and hips was just too much for me. I wish I could say I've taken advantage of my time at home but no, I didn't because I'm burnt out and life doesn't stop just because your body has. You learn a lot about yourself when your daily worth is reduced to zero. Unlike what the mass majority in the US of A think, I couldn't just go to a government office with a doctor's note and collect a check. I was lucky to still have sick leave for as long as I did, but that means I've learned to live by the skin of my teeth for the last four years. I'm forever greatful for my best friend and life partner, as I don't think I'd be writing this today were it not for their support. But I'm just that lucky, I guess.

Cancer didn't take me, so being on the brink of homelessness and absolutely broke wasn't going to put a dent in me.

(but it did. It really really did).

I don't know if you can count this as an introduction. I've walked in to 2026 with the mindset that I'm done minimizing myself for the sake of a better "appearance". I'm still balancing what that means in terms of letting my thoughts take over my mouth - or in this case, my fingers. It's a miracle I haven't deleted this whole thing yet... But I am actively fighting myself. I can't keep hiding away, and being upset that nobody sees me. I guess you can call this exposure therapy.

Hi, I'm Sabrance. A digital artist. I struggle with a lot of chronic pain and illnesses but my biggest fight is against my depression and anxiety. And yet I have this big dream of being some sort of cozy game streamer artist, because it's the only dream I can have given my situation. Part of me knows I'm doing it because I miss the way I connected to people when I was working. But what else is there for a disabled, family-less, and lonely girl to do?