There's a Lack of Peace

It sounds terrible to say, but to those countless people willingly putting themselves and their sadness up where people can see with the heavy risk of being ignored or ridiculed, seeing other people feeling this terribly suffocated and trying to say something out into emptiness, clinging onto some kinda desperate hope with their pinky finger?

It calms me.

It doesn’t make the terribad feelings go away, no, sir, but, it makes me feel less bad, and it makes me feel less inclined to die.

Not because I’m overly sympathetic to their plight, but out of a, “Finally, someone else recognizes this, this terrible, awful thing? They are acknowledging it’s real and it affects people, a lot of people.”

I guess being given little thought to when making my suicidal jokes has made me clingy to any and all attention towards what I’m having to put up with. And that means other people suffering and needing to speak out from that bile flooding their lungs is what I want to happen. I feel less bad about my own bile thusly.

I know I can blame people in my life for how I ended up like everyone else. But, for myself, I can say that while yes, they weren’t the best parents, a lot of what’s going on is my fault.

No therapy, no medication, no harming, no reaching out.

Luckily for me I haven’t been convinced to change this blog’s privacy settings. But, if someone does find this, sorry for making you spend time to read all of this.

Have a good one, yo.

Update?

I can't promise you things got better, but things did change.

A lot of important things.

Bad things didn't stay bad, some good things didn't stay good.

The one thing that had to change despite it all was us.

I can't promise I'm happier, but I'm a lot less sad and angry. I can barely remember what it was like to be you. I can remember, though, what we were going through.

We haven't reached the end goal, the nebulous trophy at the end of the line, definitely not. But, an important part is that you're getting better, you're doing better. You're getting help and you're working on things.

You're surviving and you're staying, you're physical and present, and apparently really pretty. You don't know how many comments from strangers are about our appearance. You got healthier in a lot of ways and it shows.

I won't tell you it's worth it, because I don't believe that at all, but whatever terrible reality was going on, it's not that same one anymore. And that's all I can promise you.

The decisions you made and the decisions I made, all different and varying degrees of correct and incorrect, but they were all made by the same person. The person writing this now is still alive, doing a lot less worse, and slowly but surely improving.

I know we planned on ending it all before turning this age, but if we went through with it, the little evolution we went through wouldn't have had the time or chance to happen.

Have a good one.

Play hard.

the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like. 

So you know. 

Animation and how they move is different from the art and visual style of the characters. Just to help clear misconceptions about animation style versus art style.