When i was about 14/15 i decided i wanted to kill myself. It was one of many times during that period I decided that. Most of my attempts were half-assed and would realistically never go anywhere anyways. so I sent loving messages to everyone, i wrote a note for my parents, i gave the password and login to my webcomic to my friends. And then I laid down on my bed. And i cried. I cried for an hour straight and i couldn’t stop. I didn’t feel anything while writing those notes, but as soon as I laid down i cried. And nothing happened. I’m 18 now and i’m alive. And i cant stop thinking about one part of that evening. The fact i gave the password and login to my webcomic to my friends.
I've had an internet presence since i was 13. I made a gacha tiktok account that accumulated quite a few fans. Then i made another that got even more fans. I started analyzing what did well, not only in my own videos, but in other people’s. I made another account, abandoned it, then made another. I made an account focused on my animation, it got big, so i remade that instead with my animations for another fandom, and it got crazy big. I made a comic based on a wave of popular comics at the time. I gained a fandom. It was addicting.
I’m addicted to the dopamine that comes from other’s approval. And the part of me that's always wanted the most approval is the side of me that is the most unwell. I've always wanted someone to agree i’m sick enough. I never felt sick enough. So when i began a youtube channel making animations about my mental health issues, it helped a lot. But i’m just thinking. At what point does all of this become self harm? Of course im addicted to the numbers and the fame, but like, whats the point of proving i’m sick? Over and over and over again? Screaming into the void “HEY I’M DEPRESSED!! COME AND LOOK AT ME AND TELL ME HOW SAD I AM!!” is gonna make me feel better for a little bit, but it won’t last.
I know i don't exactly have an option right now, i can’t just fix myself and decide “ohoho i believe in the weight of my issues now!” because mental health doesn’t work that way. But at the first sign, i’m going. I’m leaving and you’ll never hear from me again. I’ll stop making art about my issues. I’ll move on. Because i’d rather be happy than be inspirational. I’d rather live my life instead of making beautiful, depressing art and writing all this shit because i need to prioritize that. Nobody wants to admit it, but in the current day it seems like a challenge to see who’s the saddest. Its so cool and interesting to be immobilized by pain and the most tortured souls make the most beauty in the world. But i disagree.
Beauty doesn't come from torment, it’s in spite of it. This may feel like a tone shift, but bear with me. Hundreds of art scholars will say Van Gogh’s works were beautiful because he transformed his suffering into art. But that’s not what he did. That suffering isnt what makes his art so famous. His art comes in spite of suffering. He painted beautiful night skies from the room of his mental hospital. He used beautiful colours to represent the mundane of a cafe at night. Despite the pain, he found beauty, and chose to represent that instead.
I won’t deny a lot of art comes from suffering. But if suffering is what is needed to make good art, i don’t WANT to make good art.
Sorry if this is pretentious. Or stupid or overcomplicated or whatever. I just want to get to a point in my life where i want to want happiness. And i won’t stop fighting until i’m comfortable being happy.