Figured I'd put this on my profile. ^^
More info here: fav.me/d9i6xym
|The Home of the Near-sighted man, Venom Evolution & more.|
Commission for Naga-Asura based on an up and coming story he's working up!
When it comes to Heresy Studios, one tickler is feared: Acel Autheir, the self-proclaimed cougar and is known to break models out of sheer jealously.
Poor James just happens to be in her ruthless cross-hairs….
For bonus variants, visit my blog: araghen(dot)blogspot(dot)com!
Hand sketched, lined in Clip Studio Paint and colored in Adobe Photoshop CS5
Check out my Gallery for more.
So far, 2019’s been good. Sure, it hasn’t been a month but I made one major jump and that’s not finishing those one hundred pics.
I managed to find a mental health service and now waiting for my new doctor to call me. They’ll be the fourth psychiatrist I’ve seen in my life. I’m keeping score.
In the meantime, I’ve done some self-reflection. As Peter Gabriel put it, I’m Digging in the Dirt. I've mentioned before that I’ve done some horrible things to good people. All because I held onto grudges lasting over YEARS and earlier this month, someone asked me, “Do you think you’re a bad person?”
I was unsure. You see, that one comic I posted back in October, the one with Rebecca and Herman was my pitiful and selfish attempt to prove that this “insult” was in fact an insult. I hoped the people who the comic was aimed at would see it and apologize. There was just one problem. They told me numerous times that they did apologize yet I couldn’t remember any of them. This drove me nuts. I could remember a lot of shit. Dates I’ve been to the hospital. What I got on certain Christmases. When I got certain toys. I even bragged how my parents referred to me as the "living encyclopedia".
So why couldn’t I remember an apology? I dug. I went back and remembered how my verbal harassment towards these people really went. Where I was the aggressor, the real problem. Then it fucking hit me like a freight train of anger at myself and guilt.
All I could remember were countless walls of texts sent to me. Texts I skimmed in fits of anger and most importantly: IMPATIENCE. They did apologize. I was just too impatient and compulsive to comprehend that. That not everything can be solved in one or two sentences or even one or two words.
My Compulsive Anxiety isn’t my #1 issue, it’s my lack of patience. THAT is my biggest fault as a person. It’s why my head goes blank when people try talking to me. When they try to get any real insight out of me. It’s because I’m too busy trying to compress my thoughts into simple sentences and words and I lose my temper when I inevitably fail. That same venomous temper that caused me to do the shit that destroyed my relationships with those who tried to help me as well as countless other incidents I look back at with disgust at myself.
Even know as I type this, I struggle to put my words into text as my attention constantly drifts around. Hell, even when I speak, I stammer because I rush through my words. It’s something I know all too well as I’ve been scolded by teachers for rushing through my school assignments for pretty much the entirely of my school years.
You’d think I’d learn after all of that. No. I can be a prideful bastard. I take things as challenges when people say I can’t do something. Sometimes, it’s not even out of spite. Sometimes it’s out of pure curiosity or that I find it fun. God, I sound like a fucking sociopath. No. I just act without thinking and if I do, it’s mostly under the assumption that I’m not hurting anyone. Recently, I’ve learned the concept of self-awareness and yeah, I’ve seen how I can come off as a jackass to some people without even meaning to.
Good example is me keeping my opinions to myself. How countless verbal spats could have been avoided if I just spoke up or just fucking said something other then just “I don’t like it” or “I hate it.” Hell, if I actually expressed my true feelings about certain films.
The Dark Knight? I hid my thoughts behind how it’s too long or Joker wasn’t Joker. No. When I first saw it, I expected Batman to win like he always does. The Dark Knight was the first Batman film I saw, if not the first Batman film EVER where the villain wins. My then 18-year-old self couldn’t fathom it and thus, my disdain for the film developed. Of course, that required more explanation and god forbid I take a few minutes to fully express my thoughts on it. That and I just figured, “It’s my opinion. It doesn’t matter.” Mind you, giving it some re-watches in recent times, I’ve warmed up to it.
Another great example: Kill la Kill. Oh buckle up, baby. It’s gonna be a ride. You see, when I look into something like an anime, I don’t look up full episodes. I look at clips. I’ve done this with Hellsing and Black Lagoon. With KLK, I looked into numerous fights and what not but one clip got me. The scene where Ryuko’s mind raped as she’s placed into Junkestu. That whole bit just rubbed me the wrong way and I couldn’t bare watching a show with THAT in it. Hell, I couldn’t even finish it the clip alone before I had to turn it off. The problem that arose was that I kept that info to myself and had I not done so, that whole fiasco could have been avoided but instead, I vilified my poor friend for trying to open me up like a vicious man-child.
Thing is, I felt guilty. I felt guilty for that and even for the other horrible thing I’ve done but instead of properly expressing my true feelings like I should have done, I lashed out in impatient rants. I feel guilty for a lot of things. Maybe it’s the Anxiety but I just feel a rush of sadness hit me even if I’m given gifts. Most recently, my parents bought me the Nintendo Switch and my thought process went, “Why? Why spend your money on this? Do I deserve it? I’m just gonna neglect it like everything else.”
Once that happened, a chain reaction followed. I felt guilty for neglecting it, I felt bad for not understanding this friend code thing and that made me feel bad towards those wanting to play with me. That same guilt affects my art. To give you an idea; it’s been five years since the last original Fly-Girl story was typed. That hasn’t helped and I feel bad for everyone who’s enjoyed them which causes an endless cycle of guilt that robs me the enthusiasm to actually plan the reboot for Rebecca. Same with Evo and even Dormitory Tales. It’s the same guilt that made me pull the plug on my Patreon because I felt I wasn’t keeping up with updates. Hell, I felt guilty for even taking breaks. That same guilt trip only fuels my compulsive behavior as I have to constantly reply to any message I get and as quickly as possible. This happens anywhere should it be on DA or Discord and I feel like I’m being rude for ignoring someone. Even saying this makes me feel like a jackass.
The problem is my compulsive Anxiety constantly thinks something bad will happen (it never does of course). Whenever I think, “I’ll fix that little line later” or “it’s fine”, my subconscious fills my head with dread and I end up becoming convinced that if I don’t fix it, said bad things will happens. If I don’t reorganize my figures, if I don’t save a certain number of times, and if I say anything remotely alluding to my problems. I'll end up spending five to ten minutes on one minor area on a pic. It’s because of that, I bury myself in pics to do. THAT’S why I’ve always taken on more than I should. That “if I don’t take this commission, bad things will happen” mentality kicks in. Thanks to said pic piles, I neglect watching new movies. I neglect playing games or even fully chatting with people. It’s sadly why I often respond with either short sentences or emojis. I don’t mean to come off as a brick wall. I just don’t realize I’m doing so.
Am I a bad person? No. I just don’t think things through and I’m trying to put an end to that. I’m bringing this all up is because what I’ve said in the past was the old me bullshitting under the guise of “correcting wrongs”. Playing the victim. Not anymore. The Anxiety isn’t in control. I am and now I’m putting all my dirty laundry out where it belongs.
In the end, all I can say is that my new Shrink’s gonna have a lot of work to do.
I ended 2018 in a depressed rut but 2019's gonna see a brand new me. AREGA!
I’m not gonna sugar coat this. That Fly-Girl comic I recently posted? Wanna know what it represents?
A self-serving, spiteful grudge against someone who was actually trying to help me. Someone who I intentionally harassed because of my compulsive inability to fucking let things go. After all that, there’s only one thing left to say.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’ve been a terrible person to not just one person but to many more. People who tried to open my mind but all I did was spit in their faces like the stubborn asshole I am. I need to open my mind, not my mouth.
Last night, I finally hit rock bottom. All my wicked acts finally caught up to me and I deserved every verbal thrashing I got from every person I mocked, manipulated and more so, threw under a bus. I’m not asking for forgiveness. I screwed up. ROYALLY. I didn’t just burn bridges, I nuked them. I never once took note of people getting in the crossfire of my petty acts of revenge against someone based on events that happened looooong before even meeting them. Guess that shows how self-aware I am….not.
In the last few hours, it finally dawned on me that my crippling and most importantly OBSESSIVE anxiety played a part in my behavior. While my Anxiety did play a role, I’m not gonna pretend that I’m not accountable for my actions. My Anxiety didn’t do this. I did.
The point of this journal isn’t to gain sympathy. To those who look at me with disgust, you have every right to. I respect it as it as full-blown fact. I’m writing this to vindicate everyone from the asshole who sees in absolute black in white. The jackass who thinks “fair is fair” is justified (when it only serves him).
This is why, I need to see a shrink. I’ve finally seen what I’ve become. I can’t go on like this any longer. I’ve hurt so many. For someone who believes in “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix”, I’m pretty fucking broken right now. I need to change because I’ll ruin someone else, namely the unstable wreck typing this.