I’ve been struggling with writer’s block for the past few days, wanting to post something but unable to settle on a topic or focus on the writing process. Finally, today, I gave up on trying to express myself in words and decided to draw with oil pastels instead. Here is what I drew:
It is interesting to note that, like the sculpture I made a couple weeks ago, the face in the image doesn’t have a mouth. Fitting, seen as I’m having so much trouble expressing myself. I even had a hard time trying to answer Wakana when she asked how things have been for me. I had trouble forming complete sentences.
Worse, as I was drawing, The Critic kept bombarding me with some really mean thoughts. Some of them might be triggers:
- You’re crazy
- You’re decompensating
- People are going to think you’re insane
- People won’t get what you’re trying to say – are you even trying to say anything?
- It’s rubbish
- It sucks
- An immature level of artwork
- You should destroy it
- You should kill yourself
- It would be better if you used your own blood
- WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!?
- Those eyes are too haunting. Make it stop.
- You’re a failure and you’ll never amount to anything
- Nobody cares about you
- Why are you still breathing?
I showed the list to Fox and he said, “The one that stands out the most is this: ‘Those eyes are too haunting. Make it stop.'” The Critic is scared. It’s trying to keep me from expressing myself. All those horrible thoughts, lies*, to keep me from the truth.
What could I possibly have inside me that’s that terrifying?
* I tell myself they’re lies, echoing Fox’s Mom, but I’m not entirely convinced at least some of them aren’t at least partially true.