Drawings

These are drawings of mine that I scanned and digitally edited.

The one with the eyes is desktop-sized -- please, feel free to use this masterpiece as your computer's desktop background.

Anxiety

I have anxiety. There are a lot of contributors to this general unrest and panic in my heart. One of them is flaw in the communication I have with others. There are too many feelings, too many concerns that I have, that I can't explain to other people. Too many of the trees of reasoning I create in my head are too complex or abnormal for me to hand them to other people, and say, "Hey, look at this. Does this make sense? What advice do you have for me? Do you like this idea? Is this reasoning sound? Is my understanding flawed?"

Many of the concepts and feelings this applies to are emergent from attempts to resolve dissatisfaction in my life. This inability to communicate and get feedback that actually stems from an understanding of my problem causes more dissatisfaction, and leads to unresolved problems, which create a life filled with problems and anxiety, which is a life in which it is increasingly easy to develop more problems.

In this situation, I fall into (quite frankly) a fucking stupid hole of my own unintentional creation. I lose my real identity. I lose my other interests. I lose the other thoughts and feelings that once occupied my mind. My mental state is perpetually anxious, concerned, isolated, and seeking. Seeking for an exit to a hole that I made myself. Seeking for a solution to a problem that has morphed into something very far from what my initial, and real, problems were (and are). 

Seeking for a solution to a problem that isn't really there, but still permeates my entire life and works exponentially faster to destroy my identity, my relationships, my interests, my passions, and my brain... A problem that I feel so intensely and so constantly, I have yet to find success in internalizing the fact that it isn't there.

My anxiety is fueled by this desperate need in my soul to find a solution to a problem whose existence is continually granted by me. Or is it? Is this analysis correct? Am I delusional? Is my focus misguided? Would it be better if I didn't think about any of this? Of course not. I have to think about it to figure out how to fix it. But what if there's nothing to fix? Of course there's something to fix. My being is changing - I'm losing abilities - I'm pushing other people away - I can't make friends - I'm not functioning mentally and emotionally as I have before. Of course there's something wrong. How do I fix it? I just want to fucking fix it. I'll do whatever I need to do; I just don't know what that is. What existence is this, where all I desire is to fix the dysfunction that is becoming my own person, but in all my searching and all my work to do so, I cannot find how?