First Drafts Are Always Shitty.

So it's about 3am Wednesday morning, and it's around that time where I have began to feel. I mean, everybody feels right? Twitter culture would call it "simp hours" and that can also be another name for it, but right now, I can just feel all of my miserable, self-loathing tendencies resurfacing and I am SAD. 

I feel like there's no other way to put it other than just SAD. Yes, depression is a thing, and so is anxiety, and maybe, just maybe, it's possible that it is both, but who am I to self diagnose myself with WebMD, because I've definitely tried that too. This is my attempt of being less sad and trying to perform an action without actually caring about what other people think because my world is dominated by the thoughts and opinions of others. Not a day goes by where I'm able to spend it completely on my own and be happy in my own decisions. I rely too heavily on everyone and am a very codependent person, and I am SIIIICK of it. I am so. Fucking. Sick. This of course leads to my feelings and all of the negativity that comes with it and understanding who I am as a person, I tend to blame all of that on the actions of those around me when I should really just be taking control of my reaction to everything that happens around me. The world stops for nobody, so you just gotta roll with the punches. (I think that's how that quote goes?)

If you've ever read Albert Camus' Myth of Sisyphus, it's the perfect allegory of how I should be handling my life but I'm not. Long story short, Sisyphus is this guy that the gods got mad at because the gods are always mad at something, but they condemned him to Hell, to roll a huge boulder up a steep hill and reach the top, just for it to roll back down and him to do it all over again, for the rest of eternity. Now this task was meant to be torture, but our poor blessed soul, Sisyphus finds joy in this laborious task, and just as much as I was when I read this, the gods were really fucking confused. But he had snatched all of our wigs because he figured it out. Life is the boulder and we are Sisyphus. Until we die, we'll be pushing that boulder to the top of the hill and watching it roll back down again and again, and we could look at that boulder and the task ahead in two ways. 

A) Think about how much if fucking sucks to have to push it up AGAIN after all of that hard work and be upset about it just going back down the hill

or

B) Do what Sisyphus does and find JOY in the task of pushing a boulder up a hill. 

This is where it's important to control how you feel about a heavy boulder; because it is the only thing you can control. Life will always keep going, but you just gotta keep up. 

So right now, to try and handle it all, my thing is photography. There have been others, but right now, and I'm trying really fucking hard to stick with it, it's photography. I know I'm an artist; I AM creative, I AM innovative, I AM expressive, I am confused on how to properly portray myself and master my own tendencies. So I have picked this one and I am learning how to not give up this time. When I was younger, I was a dancer, a writer, a reader, a mess of a child that got her fingers into way too much trouble that eventually bled into my adult life, which ultimately has seemed to ruin me. (but that's another topic). And with all of those wonderful and not so wonderful things that I have done, I never stuck with any of them. I'm not so sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but now I feel lost and without a purpose. So I'm making one out of photography and trying to really learn and juggle everything else that is getting thrown at me and working to take control of my emotions so that I can become a better person, because I may be pushing a boulder up a fucking hill, but I should at least try to be happy while doing it.