To the one person on my Friend's List who may or may not realize that this person was among those who hurt me six years ago, I want to tell you that I hold no ill will toward you or the others. I merely must get these confessions off my chest, even if no one reads them but me. To this end, the particulars will not be made public.
Drawing once was what I lived for. It made me happy and it gave me the one thing I'd always wanted: friends. In October 2006, I left Wichita for the International Academy of Design and Technology. I went for many reasons. My mother was smothering me at nineteen. And yes, I wanted to learn to draw better. Most of all, it was the influence of a large menagerie of friends I'd accumulated here on the Internet, most of whom from a forum I'd recently been appointed to moderate.
I learned a lot in Tampa, not least of which improving my skills as an artist, and gaining (and dumping) two boyfriends. I gathered a few real-life friends, most of which still follow me here on dA or on Facebook. But in 2008, just one year to the end of my degree, I could no longer obtain the loans to continue the expensive living and tuition costs of my beloved IADT. So I returned to Wichita, intent on the backup plan: Educator.
I fell out of the Internet for a while, because depression took a violent hold of me. I spiraled. Ended up in hospital. Gained and lost employment sporadically. I was busy, and I'd lost track of my friends online. Then, I finally was able to catch my breath and return.
The forums that most of my friends were on, the ones who'd encouraged my pursuit, had made a few changes. I'm not sure how, but my position as moderator had been revoked, probably because of my long absence. I think it was around six months, to be honest. It wasn't the first time I'd gotten caught up in Real Life, but it was the longest. My position was returned and I thought all was well and right in the world again (other than the economy not allowing my return to Tampa).
I discovered, however, that not only was I not missed, but that I'd become something of a laughingstock. Several older posts mentioned me by name, including my claims to being in hospital. They were unkind at best and cruel at worst. I am ashamed to say that I allowed the esteemed opinions of my former forum friends to put a damper on my self esteem, enough to make me lose all joy in even my most treasured antidepressant, that is, drawing.
It took me years to come to terms with all of my feelings. The truth of the matter, the heart, is that I cared about the opinions of this particular group of people so much that everything they ever commented on was colored in a stroke of black.
That is why this year, six years after putting down my pencil to the everyday mechanics of drawing, I pledge to draw one hundred Uncertains. These Uncertains, of which two are posted already, are 500x500 pixel drawings of whatever enters my hand. They will be unscripted. Unedited. No references will be used. It will be the pure, unaltered state of my mind the day I draw them.
I admit, though: I'm a little scared. Thank you to any who read this.