I've had insomnia due to completing all the artworks I needed to do. I was dipped heavily, and I started having demonic nightmares about my family, started hearing unknown voices and facing crazy inner demons based from my "creativity". I've been seriously doubting myself as an artist, and why did I pick this passion in the first place, and why did I choose the worst niche. I've been suffering amnesia for 4 years, and my memory is somehow all-over-the-place. I was in a deep dark spot where my demons want to overcome me and my inner turmoils enduring "smiling depression".
I fumbled inside for a year now, I didn't have the confidence to tell how anxious, nervous, fatigued and how much I deeply hated myself, both choices and following my passion. I kept telling myself that I am useless, I am a worthless Gook, I am ugly out and inside, I am retarded, I never take proper meds if I didn't do 6 dosages in a day to alleviate my fears. I wanted to be happy, but I can't and I am always nervous and pessimistic, burnt out and stressed out to no end, and venting on how much I want to kill myself because I follow my passion and that I was literally retarded and mentally unstable, and constantly ripping off my scars to make them bleed because of immense self-doubt and hatred towards myself and my ego.
I wish I never really was an artist and a bother and not born being mentally ill. God, how I loved my low self-esteem and lack of self-awareness as a person. Fucking hell.