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Iāve been feeling moderate-to-high levels of stress and anxiety the past couple of days in relation to my self-imposed deadline (Iām better equipped to manage this than Iāve ever been in my life, I got this šŖš¾) What this is really doing for me is making me sad about the past
The feelings in my body- the wrenching gut, the tense muscles - are sharply reminding me of what I felt like *all the time* as a teenager. What feels like a rough couple of days for me as an adult was my chronic state as a kid. My god. I was thrashing helplessly in the deep end
As an adult I have the experience and knowledge I need to work through this. I know how to do breathwork to physically alleviate the panic. I know project management, how to turn an unwieldy mess into a series of logical actions to take that will improve the situation
But perhaps most importantly, I have the loving-kindness and patient, unwavering support of someone who trusts me, believes me, and is here for me. (Spoiler: itās me.) I did not have that as a kid. Iām amazed that I survived. Artists saved my life
Nobody thought to check if I was nervous, anxious, stressed, afraid, overwhelmed, confused, clueless. Practically everyone assumed I was some sort of āproblem childā, a ānaughty boyā, mischievous rascal, whatever you wanna call it. I didnāt āhaveā problems, I *was* the problem
I was hurting for many years because of this, but somehow I managed to keep my fundamental optimism and love for the world intact. I went through stages of denial, anger, depression... (I donāt think I ever bargained. It just never worked for me. Nobody cared what I had to say.)
Iām in a great place now. And I made a pact with my teenage self: that one day I would get out, and I would never forget how we suffered, and that I would tell our story, and that I would help the others. I think teenage Visa would be really happy for me, and proud, and grateful
And delightfully, even the moderate stress I had at the start of this thread is now gone. I was stressed about details. But this is the core of it. And the core of it is joy. (Nerd Visa: hey there must be some interesting chemical shit going on here. Hormones? Serotonin?)
Closing thought: Artists are underpaid. Like, almost all of them. They are the therapists and healers of the species, transmuting pain into meaning, mending broken hearts and spirits. If there is art you love, love it loudly and proudly. Write supportive reviews, share your favs