- Unknown (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
Can’t go over it.
Can’t go under it.
Can’t go around it.
Gotta go through it.
Trying to explain depression or anxiety to someone who’s never experienced it.
This is really intense for me, because this is exactly what artist’s block feels like. You’ve got color all around you, all over you, inside of you, in your fucking soul, and you can’t get it out on that canvas, that sketchpad, that digital screen that just sits there and yawns, white and infinite in front of you like an enemy, or worse, like a lover you can’t hold because they’re too far away. You sense what you could do if the lines and shapes and colors would come to you, but it all stays just beyond your straining fingers, no matter how hard you reach for it. It’s worse than a sense of your own inadequacy; it’s fear and it’s pain, and it’s everything you feel like you could accomplish but can’t because somehow, the colors won’t transfer from your hands, from your being, onto that white surface. You can’t paint. You can’t even begin.
Well…since my anxiety has crept back without warning, I figured I just draw some of my thoughts down…Personally I understand that some people truly do not mind reassuring a friend who has self doubt on the brain, but I can’t help having it circle my mind as often as it does. Wish it would stop honestly. It just feels like empty space that I try too hard to fill.
If anyone actually needs to know what goes through my head at all times…
John Willie Bizarre Magazine c. 1940s-1950s