The Blessing of Anonymity

I mean, when I get bored I can think of pretty much anything, mainly related to money (who doesn't want money?), so it ends up being a day-long brainstorm on how to make money

Every hour in my day is spent staring at a screen while sitting in my couch. Studies? Online. (Currently in vacation so yeah, not even studying) Friendships? Online, and currently very few (2 to be exact). Therapy? Online, once a week. Mental stimulus? Reading random posts on all sort of subjects online. Do I leave my house for anything, ever? Very, very rarely. Irl friends/companies? My ex, only him (he's not a monster, I assure you). We see each other every weekend and occasionally after he leaves work on a weekday when I *need* to get out of the house even if it is for just one hour to grab a coffee and watch the street.

I feel like I'm floating in the void of outerspace, completely lost.

Recently, I've been bombarded by my own thoughts of projects I abandoned. If you're reading this, brace yourself, this gonna be long. From 8 years of age I took great interest on reading, writing, acquiring knowledge (not always useful), learning languages (here am I fluent in English now). 12 years of age, I absolutely loved writing on notebooks (I'd always carry 3 of them EVERYWHERE in my backpack, each for a different topic). I would also spend hours on end drawing anime/mangá style art. 14 years of age, I got my very first tablet and began trying digital art and painting, while maintaining all the rest. I carried on all of those interests and hobbies until my 15 years of age.

In between 12 and 15, my privacy was breached many times and I got bullied for my art, for my texts, for my attempts creative expression as a whole. I was not one to express verbally already (actual autism, selective mutism), because talking felt unsafe and bullying made that worse. Overtime, artistic and creative expression felt less and less safe.

Until by 15 years of age I got into an abusive relationship and dropped everything. I lost my voice, and what was left of my ability to express myself along with my dignity and self-respect. I just gave up for good on trying to express myself in any way.

Got out of that relationship at 17. Entered another one with an alcoholic, made some attempts at trying to start writing again, on private, password protected journals on a website I won't disclose. Again I was forced to let someone read my stuff and had verbal stones thrown at me. By 19 I left that relationship, and entered another one. Healthier one, but not perfect, still with some toxic traits because nobody is perfect he is unable to understand some things about me and is unaware of others, all he knows is I'm traumatized (got PTSD from the 2 previous relationships), mentally fucked and hard to deal with. [He also has untreated ADHD (which doesn't favor him being able to listen to my long explanations of what's actually going on with me), and a very critical personality (though he means to be constructive, he lacks sense. Both of us think he might be autistic as well as he does identify with it, but he can't focus on learning more about it as he can't for any other psychology or neurodevelopment/neuroscience topic, at least he tried).]

I again tried to recover my interests and means of creative expression through art and stuff, but as a critical designer he'd give his unsolicited opinion and again unknowingly take away my freedom of expression by accident when he was only trying to help, he was unaware on how his comments hit me in a very different way and I was unable to communicate that to him, explain, or make him aware. That relationship ended by unrelated reasons when I was 22, in May. Just over a year ago. It was very hard to deal with the breakup and he remains as my only in-real-life friendship/social interaction other than my mom and occasionally grandparents.

I am currently 23 years old, I want to try to recover/reclaim my life, my voice, my creative power, creative expression, writing, drawing on paper, doing digital art. I started by beginning in oil painting, my paintings are unfinished and have been sitting in my shelves for months now with no new alterations. I feel like writing and I know not what to write about because there is this huge block which is something in between a creative block and a sense of danger/unsafe in my chest.

I feel like drawing on paper but I don't even try all the progress I worked so hard on making in my skills between 12 and 15 was totally lost. I don't know what to draw anymore (nothing comes to mind) and when I try it feels like everything is too ugly. Digital art is even worst. It's worth mentioning I lost any precision I had with a pen or pencil (I also shake a lot due to Anxiety and PTSD). So I decided to focus on other areas of life, started college online in a unrelated subject, while pursuing this technical degree online I'm also trying entrance exams for another university in a totally different bachelor (psychology) to do both at the same time.

I made projects that would suit well this focus on other areas:

Finishing oil paintings.

Reading Tarot/Sibilla/Lenormand professionally.

Teaching English conversation.

I have not taken a single step forward in any of those. It's like I'm petrified into staring at the computer and doing the same things over and over again:

Studying

Talking to online friends

Browsing random knowledge

Reading random books

I have lost my capability to organize my life/tasks and move things forward, completely. The only thing I'm moving forward is college which is now on break.

The wish to express myself creatively is calling me constantly, yet the block still stops me. The biggest advance I made towards that is rambling about my personal life in this anonymous page which I'm constantly paranoid about being linked to my identity or figured out by anyone in real life (specially my ex who's my only friend, or the closest I got to one. He has my back in a lot of stuff) for no special reason other than the feeling of unsafe exposure.

I will keep on trying to improve my organization. I will keep on trying to regain my power of self-expression, be it artistic, textual, visual, and even someday verbal! I know this will be a long battle, and any support is welcome since I have no means to express to anyone irl (other than my therapist) that I need that support. I must not give up even if any drawbacks shove me straight back in my isolated cave. I hope someday I'll be able to produce quality art again, in texts or images, and post it here, and eventually somewhere not anonymous. If I get there, I will be proud. I just don't know how to start or what to even try first, but somehow I will figure, wing it! Any advice is welcome. If you read this far, thank you very much for giving so much attention to this fragment of the story of my life, that truly is much appreciated.