NeoGAF Anonymous Confessions 2015 - Bare Your Burdens

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LouisaFerre said:
Have I read this before? This story sounds really familiar.

EDIT: Yeah, I did.
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It seems familiar because, well, it's mine. I made a thread on it a couple of years back. Someone used my story as their confession. I've no idea why as it's a pretty shitty story/confession.
 
NotTheGuyYouKill said:
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I was hoping for the "Your soul is mine" gift from Mortal Kombat but that's an acceptable alternative.
 
To make up for the previous stolen one:

This was probably about 5-6 years ago, I was a horny teenager but I'm still deeply ashamed by this.

In high school we did an art project which required us to take cameras home. Inevitably people don't delete their photos and they're left on the SD card for when the next people use. Anyway I was bored and looking for my next thrill so I jacked it to some photos people had taken of their friends.

I felt like I'd defiled them and no amount of nasty porn would fill me with as much guilt as I felt as I returned that camera to the teacher.
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That's just fucked up.
 
I joined a local black gnag, they weren't anything "big" but, they were a gang and did a lot of illegal shit. Joining a gang was a mistake I'm still living to regret. I wanted to fit in, and to fit in I started doing drugs at first it was easy stuff like pot, then it got to hard like crack. By 17 I was a wreck, a voltaile wreck and dangerous too. Got expelled after assaulting my teacher. Not long after a couple of my "friends" come up to me and say "Yo, we gunna hit up that local 7-11. U in?". The desire to fit in overwhelms you, it's too overwhelming so I jumped to it. You can see the writing on the wall.
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Feel like I'm reading a troll, or a creative writing assignment.
 
I hope this isn’t too long.

Beginning this dramatically: It all began when I was just a 12 year old brat. As a child, politely saying, I wasn’t very popular. I was quiet, small, slightly overweight had strong glasses and big teeth with even bigger braces. I had friends, but damn, all the boys hated me. When we needed to dance in P.E. no boy would voluntarily ask me as their partner and the teacher had to force someone to dance with me. (There were more boys than girls and the boys would rather ‘become girls’ and dance with each other than dance with me ;_;)

Anyway, it’s not like I was unhappy, pretty much the opposite. I had fun about every day.

Entering the 5th grade I and my friends suddenly notice that I’m good at drawing. Like, I’m rapidly improving and the ‘popular’ girls are being left to my shadow in that one area. Suddenly, my popularity in on the rise. In group projects I become a wanted member since I can illustrate all the posters and presentations better than others. (Some of the credit goes to the puberty as it hit me earlier than the others just after I had turned 12.)

I decided that drawing was to be the purpose of my life as it was the only real skill I had and sure enough, I kept improving and I became the favorite student of our art teacher who had encouraged me so much during the 7 years he taught me. He said I was going the same path as his earlier students, who now were prominent artists, studying in other countries. I decided I also wanted to draw for living.

I truly felt I had discovered my calling and I was happier than ever.

But it all went downhill from there.

You see in our school there was another person whom the teacher also liked, who was exceptionally talented at drawing, a boy 4 years my senior. I developed a strong crush for him. I admired him. I made him my goal. I constantly compared myself to him. I loved him and I hated him at the same time. His very presence made me angry. I envied his skill, which drove me to practice even harder. I wanted to surpass him.

Envy got a strong role in my life back then. It became what motivated me to draw. It got really ugly. I began to hate anyone who also drew. I even began to envy those with lower skill than me, because I feared they might get better than me. With time everything I found fun about drawing was gone. Envy was poisoning my heart and my mind and my art became soulless.

Then the boy I had crush on graduated. I knew I would never see him again. With no one to constantly compare myself against, the envy inside me was directed to every direction. At this point I wished every other person with my skill would just die. I became depressed.

Sometimes, when I’m having a really serious problem with myself, I reach the lowest of the low and I feel like I have nothing to lose, during that darkest moment I suddenly find my answer. So I lay on my bed agonizing and just like that I feel I have stepped out of thick fog to a world with pink clouds and happiness. All the envy and negative feelings just disappear. I finally understand that there is absolutely no point in envy. And just like that I’m over it.

Act II – start! For a few weeks I’m in bliss. I love everything and everyone and negative feelings are gone. Then I notice I don’t want to draw anymore. I don’t want to draw anymore, but I force myself to, because I fear I stop improving otherwise. It’s still my dream to become an artist. Now I just hate drawing. My motivation disappeared, because for years I had been powered by anger and envy. Once I got over those I had no reason to go on. I wanted to want to draw, because it was my only skill. I measured my human worth in how well I could draw. It went so far, I began to get shortness of breath just from seeing empty paper.

By stopping to draw for joy and beginning to draw for duty and envy I had twisted my relationship with creating.

I started to think and making conclusions. I realized everything I’ve been confessing here. I understood where all the anxiety was coming from. Final conclusion: I get no joy in drawing, because I’m giving myself too much pressure. I’m giving myself all this pressure, because of the decision that I wanted to become a professional artist. To get rid of the pressure, I needed to discard my dream. But I didn’t want to.

I watch a lot of anime. To me those who give up on their dreams are weak and boring people. I didn’t want to give up. I didn’t want to become one of those people. My parents had also bought me all kinds of not-so-cheap equipment for my drawing, so it felt wrong to quit. For couple more years, I forced myself to draw, even though I knew very well I wasn’t getting better, because I didn’t enjoy it anymore.

Then, when I was 16 years old, I discovered something else. My mom made me enter a game programming course. I found programming utterly fascinating. It was like creating a world from scratch, by creating your own laws of physics! I decided again: If I can never become an artist, I want to create games! I was finally able to give up peacefully.

For the next two years or so I hardly drew a line. I had lost interest forever because of my twisted relationship with drawing. I didn’t care though. I had a new goal. A goal that didn’t depend on abstract skill levels, but something I could reach with the right education. I also began to pursue new skills for fun such as writing, game design and learning Japanese, but even today I’ve decided I won’t do anything unless I really want to. After all they are HOBBIES! I don’t NEED to be good. I just need to ENJOY them!

And guess what? For a few months now the passion for drawing I had once lost has been slowly returning! I want to draw again and I love it! I just needed to give up my forced goals and the joy came back!

For the first time I’m sharing my struggle with anyone. Compared to others my problems might’ve been extremely petty, but feelings are relative. If you are still reading, I thank you. :D
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NotTheGuyYouKill said:
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Fucking hell. Teenagers are the worst.

I really hope the confessor comes back and reads this when they're 30/40/50. And punches themselves in the face each time.

Edit: This is also probably a good example of why it's a bad idea for the confessions to be posted with only an animated gif as a response :D
 
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