#original characther

Also: No, I wont rant this much in the 2 chapthers left, DW

Honestly? Looking at this makes me feel a little bit sad and tired. It's just that I've always had this ''cycle'' I go through. I go from loving my art and being on the top of the world, the greatest artist who has ever lived, holy light comes out of my wacom drawing tablet, to hating and believing I've lost all the skill I once had and will never be able to do something like it again; I switch between these 2 mindsets every few months. And it's just so annoying. (I want to make it clear that I know these thoughts aren't true and I don't really think like this about myself. It's just how I feel when I'm in that part of the cycle.) I just feel like a failure who has never learned how to do anything good, even with years of practice, that I've stagnated, regressed, that anything good I ever did was just pure luck, and I will never be able to create something I like and that brings me joy ever again. It just hurts so much because I don't think I can do that; I don't think I can go back to being someone who just observes other people's art. I would honestly rather die; I probably would die. I need to be there, to create it; I need to feel happy and look at what I'm creating with pride. I want to feel good about the stuff I do. And I do When the other half of the cycle begins When that happens, it always feels like some of the best moments in my life, and I'm so happy with my art, and being happy with my art makes me even happier; it's euphoric. Why can't it always be like that? Because I do love my art, I recognize my skill, and I'm happy to create what I create. So why does my brain do this to me? Why does it decide to cast some sort of spell every other 3 months that makes me hate it and see no future in myself? There's no trigger, no inciting incident; it just happens, every time with no failure. Always the same ''routine.'' And noticing its coming doesn't make me able to stop it. I've tried, but I discovered I just need to ride it out. And even though I know what's happening, I know it's just another half of that damned cycle; it doesn't make all those thoughts and feelings feel less true or correct at that moment. Knowing better doesn't make me feel better. And after it is done, after I've finally started being able to feel and think ''normally,'' there's always this wave of shame and embarrassment for how much I overreacted to certain things. I feel guilty and embarrassed about being aware of what was happening and still believing those thoughts. ''You should know better; it's always like this, you know it.'' Right at the end of the most recent ''my art sucks and will always suck and I should die'' phase (that just ended, by the way; I've been feeling like that since October, I think), I sketched a thing for a friend. In the middle of drawing it, I was feeling horrible; I was so happy to start something that would make someone I love happy. But everything just looked awful, gross, the ugliest thing that has ever graced this earth. And I just kept thinking, "Where have all the years I've dedicated to learning anatomy and rendering gone?" Was I always this bad? Were all my good grades and compliments a lie? Was all of it in vain?'' I ended up just crying and going to bed. And then, the next day, I opened that file again, preparing myself to see that monstrosity on my screen again. And it was fine; the drawing was nice. I have no idea what my eyes were seeing that last night, how distorted they had to be seeing it to think that it looked ''awful and gross.'' It makes me feel so stupid, so overdramatic. All of that for this? Really? For something that really didn't have any problems at all I just wish I could always see my art as I can see it now. I love it; why can't I love it all the time? It's just not fair.