Two posts, one day?!

 Two posts, one day, who am I?! It’s only because this is so fresh on my mind thanks to my post from this afternoon. I feel like a fool right now. I’m really embarrassed and disappointed and ashamed and I think more than anything, I just want to be wrapped up in a bit hug and have someone tell me everything is okay :) I know that sounds silly, lol. I have a lot of thoughts and I don’t know what I want to post here and what I don’t because I’ve always had trouble writing down the really big thoughts. Something about physically seeing them and having it be more tangible than a bunch of tangled thoughts in my head scares me. I also find that silly because I like to pride myself in being open and emotional. I guess I contradict that but are we really who we think we are? I got home from working in the studio and it was a really long day. I’m trying to learn how to code! Something super basic but it’s kinda kicking my ass which is to be expected because, well, it’s coding. I didn't think it was going to be easy, I just have to do it. I think I over scheduled myself for this semester, which my therapist has been telling me, and I kept telling her it’s okay because it’s only a semester. Days like today remind me that a semester is a long time, even though it doesn’t feel like it while in the school haze. I don’t feel like going into the details because I think recounting it will exhaust me but I got home feeling frustrated with my husband. He doesn’t help around the house, especially not with the meals, and that’s something I could really use help with while the days get longer. He said he was going to take care of dinner and then didn’t, so I got home a little hangry after not eating anything all day to no food. I know that’s not that big of a deal but something about it felt hurtful. I think I was more angry with myself that I believed I would get home to a meal than I was with the fact I would just go to bed hungry. I also had amplified the entire thing in my head to feel like it was something special so the disappointment from the lack of hype that was created (only by me in my head) was also crushing. Just two days ago I had said something along the lines of “you know I have never in our six years gotten home to just a meal ready for me”, which is true. I had also told him today I was having a long day and I know he could hear it in my voice because he pointed it out. So when he mentioned taking care of dinner I thought, wow, he remembered what I said a couple of nights ago and is going to treat me after a long day. That felt special I guess and so like I said, I made it that. So I was kinda double disappointed and hurt and I just felt dumb. I was so frustrated that I was in tears but I just sucked it up and tried to go to bed. He had tried talking a bit but I wasn’t really in the mood obviously but instead of apologizing or wrapping me in a hug, he said “so you’re just going to be annoying all night?” I thought … me? I’ve been thinking about what a surprise dinner would be for 5 hours, and I’m annoying you through my frustration? Sometimes I kinda feel like I’m being pranked and then I think, maybe I’m just stupid because I don’t understand. I calmly explained to him everything that made me feel disappointed and hurt, I cried some little baby tears but I thought I did a super good job holding it all together. He couldn’t even see the tears because it was dark after all and they were so small my voice wasn’t shaky. Every time I would get done making a point he would follow it up with something that seemed like he was purposely just trying to make what I was saying irrelevant rather than trying to understand how he would feel in the situation. I felt like I was going crazy, I was just holding my head and doing deep breaths. This isn’t the life I pictured for myself. Then I lost it, only a little, and said something about how frustrated I was and when I rolled over on my side, he just got up and went to the living room to lay down without saying a word. It felt kinda comical to me, because again, how are you going to be mad at me for being upset? I laid down for a few moments trying to compose myself before going upstairs to try to talk to him but I felt like there was no point, he always refuses to talk to me. This time was no different obviously and I sat on the edge of the bed begging him to tell me why he was upset but he refused. He just said he didn’t want to see me and to go away. I asked him to come back to bed and he said absolutely not. I don’t know why I wanted him to come lay down so badly when before he left, I wanted to be as far away from him as I could. This has happened before and I know better than to entertain the idea he will come back to lay down with me after making that decision. He then went on a rant about how me explaining my frustrations reminded him of all of the things he’s angry with me over that he has pushed down over the months. None of which I can really share because he wouldn’t tell me any of those either. I told him not to push those down, I need and want to know, but he kept just telling me to leave immediately and that he was trying to sleep. “Didn’t you have such a long day today? Don’t you have such a long day tomorrow? You do right? Go to bed.” It’s times like these where I feel soooo far away from my family and I remember it really is just us here. I wanted to run away but I have no where to go. I just wanted someone to hold me and say it’s going to be okay. I would have been okay with a turkey sandwich or a quesadilla for dinner, that would have been just as special to me. It feels like I’m not worthy of even the bare minimum. He said I was the one that made it out to be special in my head. He needed food and was going to get something for me too, simple as that, then he decided not to eat. He said it was never something he offered to help me out or do something after a long day, that he had a long day too. I sat there and thought, has he ever had a moment where he’s wanted to do something special for me just because? I’ve never gotten home to my favorite meal, or takeout waiting for me, or a fresh cooked meal on the stove. I don’t deserve that, not even once? He then brought up that we have nothing in common and that I’m boring. That kind of hurt my feelings but I did just make a post about being a shell of a person so I couldn’t argue too much. I probably am boring, I just don’t always know what to do and we’re on a budget while I’m in school so the things I want to do I can’t afford. But even if I had endless money, what would I spend my time doing? I’m not sure. I told him there are plenty of things I enjoy doing and he scoffed and said, “yeah, I can’t wait to watch Shrek and take a walk around the block.” That broke my spirit I think. I just sat there, for once I had nothing to say. I used to ask to watch Shrek all the time when we had first shared dating. I just thought it was silly and it was one of those childhood comfort movies, I used to watch it with my family all the time. He never lets me pick the movie, he’s the only one that gets to pick what we watch, so obviously we never watched Shrek. That was the only reason I would request it so much, I just wanted to watch it together and we never did, we still never have. I stopped requesting after a while, I don’t think I’ve asked for that since like 2019. Also, my favorite thing to do on a beautiful day is take a long walk around the neighborhood. I love the fresh air but more than anything, I love looking at the buildings. I find the architecture so interesting and beautiful, especially in the areas we’ve lived together. He hates taking walks with me and refuses to do it unless we’re walking somewhere he needs to go. Even then, we walk fast and I can’t look at the buildings. So I don’t know, it just felt like a stab in my heart. Is that all I am to him? What an embarrassing human being from his perspective. Just someone who wants to watch Shrek and go on a walk around the block. I sat there and cried in the dark for a long time, but silently because he thinks my tears are crocodile tears half of the time. Shrek and a walk around the block. I don’t know if I will ever get that out of my head. I wished more than ever I would have just gotten home and let it go and laughed. “No dinner? No problem!” And then we would have giggled ourselves to sleep. But instead I’m laying in bed by myself while he sleeps upstairs since he refused to be around me. I’m the one who is sad and reflecting while he sleeps soundly. And I’m still hungry :( I still wish to be scooped up and held and comforted by him but that exists only in a reality I’m not in. I miss my mom more than ever, I want to be home. I want to be with my siblings. I called my sister and she helped a bit but she’s also a grudge holder. I didn’t want to tell her for that reason but I had to tell someone. I needed her to hold me and rub my head but through the phone with her words, the only way she can. Ugh. My heart is heavy. I just want to feel loved by him, really really loved and cared for. I don’t feel that but I need it, I crave it so badly

Who am I

     

    I have taken some time to reflect and there were many moments when this blog when pop into mind. Things I wanted to write about or express. I realized that my past blog posts are not actually representative of who I am. That is not how I would write in my journal, my journal has always been a space for reflection and deep thoughts, not a walk through of my day. Grad school has been insane lately and I feel like I am hanging on by a thread. Sometimes I hope that I get hit by a car when I'm walking to school so I can get out of doing our fall show but I know that is literally so stupid and take it back. I feel like I don't know who I am anymore, I am a shell of who I once was. I don't have any hobbies and I when I'm not working on a project, I am just wasting away on my phone. I am grateful for my phone of course, otherwise I would be so out of touch with my friends and family, but it seems like a bigger distraction nowadays. I have spent four months working on a big project and I mean like, working on it almost every day for hours. It's definitely out of my normal comfort zone, something I am experimenting with. It's no where close to being finished and that is a problem. Our fall show is on Monday and I have nothing to show. I wish I could be like the artists who work fast, produce a piece in a couple of days or less and then show up to critique with 100 pieces everywhere. I am just not that way, I think the way I view art is poisoned. My paintings would take months to finish and so maybe I am just used to creating pieces that absorb all of my time. But I also struggle to view pieces created in such a short span of time "fine art" and I am trying to be a fine artist after all. I know that is skewed and no longer aligned with modern mentality but I can't shake it. I think my husband contributes to that too so it's hard to break out of the bubble. One night, I had a spark and created an entire piece in probably 7 hours. I hadn't felt so alive and excited in so long, I was running around my studio, throwing things everywhere, creating like a madman. I remembered why I chose this in the first place, the feelings I used to feel when I would create. The piece I made was something I was proud of, proud enough to include it in my solo show I was preparing for. There were definitely areas that could have probably been improved with more time but I liked it, the rawness and vulnerability I felt I captured. My husband hated it and said nothing I create in a day could be considered in the same space with the rest of the work I create. It made me upset at the time and obviously I still think about that conversation. It was a mindset I was already fighting with myself, telling myself the thoughts aren't true and then he confirmed everything I was worried about. I haven't felt that spark while creating again. Anyways, this project has taken me FOUR months. FOUR MONTHS. I am no where near the end and sometimes I feel like I do these things to myself as a sort of punishment. Why I can't paint abstracted, why I can only paint realistically with brushes so small you can barely see the bristles. Why (!) am I like this? So I'm in critique today with a visiting artist we meet with frequently. We see her the most often out of the revolving artists always coming in and out, meeting us and critiquing us all in 30 minutes. She knows me the best and knows my work. I love her and I value her opinion. I was very excited to show her my project. I don't know what exactly I imagine but it definitely included some affirmations that I was on the right track. Instead, I showed her and she said, "Why would anyone want to interact with this?" I was like, actually, that is a great question,  I don't know. I just imagined they would but why? Then I started thinking, why am I creating any of the things I do? Of course I have my elevator speech of what I talk about when I'm asked. It's about identity, it's about the way we are perceived as people, it's about what makes us turn out the way we do. Am I making work that is only relatable to me and people within my circle? Am I wasting my time? I knew grad school was going to be hard. I imagined a lot more tears and mean words and harsh critiques. I didn't imagine that a single question could make me feel like I'm crumbling. How stupid of me! I don't even know what I am doing here anymore. What do I want? Truly. I have some ideas but they feel shallow and lack substance. I want to live on my family farm where I can garden just like my grandma. I want to be surrounded by my family, each of us having our own home built next to each other on the land we grew up visiting. I want to bake and share it with everyone and enjoy meals together. Mom and grandma visited recently and there was a moment that just felt so pure, I almost can't explain it. The three of us working in the kitchen together, one preparing the vegetables, the other doing dishes, the other stirring what was boiling on the stove, all working in unison and just happy to be in each others company. That is what I want. I want to do art for fun again and have ideas that I can just do and be happy with because I love them rather than seeking validation from everyone else, trying to confirm what I am doing is fine art and not craft. I want happiness, I want purpose, I want to feel full again. I feel like I am empty, a shell floating around. I don't know who I am.