Entry #104 - 7 Years

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By NeyoWargear
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Wargear here.


I wrote my first poem "I Want to Be" back on March 12th, 2012. It's been 7 years and 3 days since then.


Model 0 Trinity Trooper armor was drawn back in 2012 as well. Seven years have passed thus.


2012 was the end of 8th grade and the beginning of my freshman year/9th grade. I've become a far better artist and poet since then. I cringe at my old works, both written and drawn, due to how awful they look and read. Though I am glad for this reaction, it means that my standard has been raised. I have improved over these last 7 years and that's what life is all about.


You may have noticed odd nicknames in the description of poems such as: Goldilocks, Little Tiger, Curious, Grey Bay, My Friend, and Blackbird/Amsel Angel. You've probably guessed that this as the nicknames of girls I've either dated or liked. If you did, you'd be correct.


What have I learned these last 7 years as an artist and a poet? Know this, I've been an artist since I can remember. Regarding art, when I first started posted my art online such as on Flickr, Facebook, and Saber-Scorpion's Lair Forums, it was to show the world. This quickly degenerated into me wanting to get favorites, likes, comments, etc, it was all about popularity. Though I honestly wanted and needed feedback in those early years of posting. It's hard to improve when you don't know what you should or need to improve on. My emotions became intertwined with the amount of likes, favorites, and comments. I felt as though if I didn't receive those things that I wasn't a good artist and thus my feelings reflected that. I have since grown from that period, but yes, a comment would be nice, haha. Now I'm doing it more for myself, as it should be. Post your art, no matter how bad you think it is. You can always improve if you work at it. Don't drown your passion with popularity. Do it because you want to show the world something. If it's important to you, it can become important to someone else. It can become their escape, their anchor.


As for poetry, I began to wrote because of a girl. Cliche, yes, but even though the Grey Bay and I are on bad terms I am most thankful for her. She was my first muse, the entire reason I began to write poetry. The catalyst for my silent voice, the one unafraid to speak even if silent. She too was my Source of Sadness. When she first disappeared, I thought I was the reason she did. She had depression and anxiety and cut to numb herself. When she disappeared I began to believe that I was the reason she did and that I caused her to kill herself. I was 12 or 13 at the time, and you can only imagine what kind of damage that does to a person that young. I would hold onto that guilt, pain, and anger for 5 years. I finally let it go in 2018 whilst on my two-year mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. In a way I inherited her pain, loneliness, and sadness as well. I became silent and poetry was my only voice. It was how I vented, how I coped, poetry was everything to me. Music became especially important to me as I listened to music I felt echoed my current feelings and situation. It made me feel not alone.


I met others that felt the same as I. My poetry became their anchor and their hope. That brought me joy, that my pain cemented in words could be a voice of reason, understanding, empathy, soothing. I've been lucky that I could fuel such things with dark emotions. I reached a point where I wanted to kill myself, luckily I never left the floor to pursue the many ideas I had of ending my own life. That was the darkest point in my life, but I rose victorious. Now I will say that I am thankful for those 5 years of depression. Why? Well, without those years I wouldn't be who I am now. I learned of taboo and unafraid to talk about it, unfazed by it. I understood people better and could better offer help after listening to them. I learned to listen and to be a shoulder to cry on, I learned to look past the scars, and understand the human within. It's a beautiful thing, to suffer through another's pain to ease it. To share the burden, to be someone's Atlas.


Post your poems, vent your emotions. Know others feel the same as you, you need not suffer alone in silence. Though I highly suggest seeking professional help as I did via counseling. Direct your pain into something creative, it may be therapeutic as it was for me. It may be the only thing that keeps you from stepping off the ledge, but it's better than the fall.


If an ear is all you seek, don't hesitate to hit me up.


Cheers.

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