A Convoluted Soliloquy

What an interesting day it's been. I've been dissociating nearly constantly, with some clear parts, but some strange feeling, vestige of consciousness, or obligation got me out of bed this morning and on my feet to do something other than watch youtube all day and feel bad about it. So I've done a little. Made a little progress on choosing art for the exhibition, wrote a new resume, and did some watercolor painting. It is not much but it is also infinitely better than what was going on yesterday. Those two thoughts clash though and it's difficult to get them to agree with each other. For now I'll just think that at least yesterday didn't repeat itself. 

Art feels... different. It's not a strange far-off activity I do every so often... it's not a stressful thing, it's not a blocked off skill I can only access "when it feels right". I'm not sure how to explain... before it was as if I was not an artist and yet I produced art by some magic or trick of the light, though I only felt like an artist in the moment, and afterwards I'd stand back and wonder if I'd done that. Not that that's completely ended, or even mostly ended. But I feel strangely comfortable just doodling for no reason now, when before it was as if every bit of content squeezed out of my tired fingers had to be my best work. And my doodles turn out better for it anyway. I feel more comfortable posting bad art, or art that's easy to judge me by... will this last? is what I've been asking myself. Somehow, I feel like it will. 

I feel more in control now. Some bit of my past consciousness kicked in and jerked me out of that terrible reverie. Maybe I jerked myself out of it. 

I'm too reluctant to even tentatively pass judgement on anything. Notice that I haven't said "that's good" or "i'm glad" even once. I'm withholding that kind of emotion for now to watch what will happen. I guess I don't like being disappointed. I used to say those kinds of things out of some kind of obligation. I don't react well to even that kind of small hope being crushed. Of course, all this has objectively been a positive developement... but I'm not "happy", not yet. A very muted feeling of content, but nothing close to happy. 

Am I strange in that regard? Or, is it a sign of some mental shenanigan that hasn't been cured? That I'm reluctant to hope or feel happiness about anything. Why can't I just relish what good moments there are and endure the bad moments when they come? But I extend my happiness with the expectation that it will be crushed. Of course it will be. Just like I might be sad with the expectation I'll be happy again at some point. Both will happen at some point. So why get crushed when it does? Why have this negatively connotated expectation of something that's natural? 

I don't expect this to make much sense to anyone but me. I was personal journalling for a while, so I'm not used to expositioning things out, or making it more clear to people who don't know me as well as I'd know me. 

I started this journal with the intention of ending this day on a slightly brighter note and to organize my thoughts a bit. I'd been more content with my achievements earlier in the day, but grew down when I began to "lose speed", as a train would, towards the end of the day. I wanted to encourage myself to not be discouraged by this. I've been wanting to change my mindset from being fixated on days individually to seeing that life is lived through a combination of days. It will be okay if it's not completed today because I can continue tomorrow. It's okay if I've lost steam now, I can pick it up tomorrow.

I've nothing more to say now.