Another failed while 'accomplished' artist here. Failed as in I stopped producing because I can't disentangle something as vital and personal as my creative output from something as vital and personal as the trauma of doing it for parental affection. I try and try to resume it and I told myself many times failed was temporary but I don't find anything interesting or of value in retreading those feelings any more. I just can't escape my lack of a real identity.
I have no voice without it. It infuriates me because my skill atrophies and I could keep growing and making far better things. I tried to find myself in one of my many other interests—I would have been excellent at my chosen career, unlike most things—but the underlying insecurities haunt me and my disability prevents me from working.
