I need to get this off of my boobs.
This is a post that my ex made shortly after we split up.
I remember this day. I was coloring while waiting to go testify a few years ago. When I am stressed, I like to draw. The receptionists actually complimented me on my drawing, which was awesome. I love the Powerpuff Girls to this day, I’ll admit.
Confiding in you about my insecurities must have been such a bother.
Drawing to take my mind off of things such as the guy who held a gun to our heads and having to face him within minutes must make me pretty immature.
Yes, I have insecurities, but I continue to conquer the shit out of them.
My “maturity level”, “being on my own planet”, and “drug free mind” got me doing what I love most for a living.
In conclusion, go fuck yourself. Stop making yourself out to be some sort of victim in all this. You hurt me the most, you fucking bastard. You’re in your own world, you’re the one who’s on drugs, and you’re the ugliest person I have ever met. Breaking up with you and leaving my life behind was the bravest thing I have ever done.
And I still draw them 13 years later TO THIS DAY.
Don't let anyone ever denounce or dismiss the way YOU cope with stress, especially your art!
We all handle stress and anxiety differently.
For me, it saved my life.
