i used to be really passionate. i used to love drawing. i’d run home excited just to open my phone and draw whatever i was interested in. i could spend hours, even weeks, working on full illustrations with backgrounds, rendering everything, making sure all the details were right. back then, i wanted to live off commissions because drawing was all i wanted to do.
then everything went downhill last year. i lost a lot, and it felt like i lost everything. after that, i lost the spark i had for art. i isolated myself, stayed in my room, and slowly became someone i didn’t recognize. i couldn’t draw the way i used to. i couldn’t even hold a pencil without it feeling heavy. i made a few things here and there, but it was never the same.
looking back at my old posts, the regression is obvious. i lost so much of the passion, creativity, and skill i used to have. i mourn the old me more than anything, the version of myself that could create without forcing it. i don’t even know why people still follow me. anything i post now feels like barely anything compared to what i used to make. art is my only hobby. it’s the only thing i’ve ever truly wanted to do. i don’t want anything else. but if i’ve already lost my best years, and i can’t even pick myself back up anymore, then what is there left to believe in? people say to keep trying, to start again, to trust the process. i’ve heard it all before. i used to believe it too. but when you’ve hit rock bottom long enough, those words stop meaning anything. i know i’ll never be who i used to be. and to anyone who’s been here from the start, i’m sorry
txto