i know this is a temporary feeling, because emotions come and go, and my perception of life changes nonstop, but right now i see how terribly bad i am at the things i am doing, and it frustrates me. i have no hope. i can't imagine achieving anything. i am so deeply and disturbingly dissatisfied with my being that i feel physically uncomfortable, i want to scratch my skin off, i want to tear my sketchbooks apart, i want to run till i fall on the ground, exhausted. a blank page makes my hands shake. a need to keep going draws anxiety out.
this isn't fun.
i am not giving up.