#i'm starting at a new school for sophomore year how am i supposed to draw when everything looks bad | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thewebcomicsreview · 4 years

Note

Hi. I'm an autistic guy who's looking to start writing comics. I have a WebToon but with nothing on it yet. My problem isn't mainly that I don't know where to begin. My deepest issue is dealing with past trauma from cringe culture. I'm a huge Sonic fan, but I'm scared to put out what was inspired by it out of fear that I'll relive the trauma again. I'm scared of a lot of things, actually.

I’m feel like the standard answer I’m supposed to give is “If writing comics is what you want to do, then go for it and let the haters hate”, which is something I do believe in but also is not particularly useful advice. “Just try not having trauma, idiot, lol!”. Doesn’t really help.

And if this is something that’s seriously debilitating, then my actual advice is “Try to find a therapist”, because I’m absolutely not qualified to solve your traumatic stress.

Because if you’re wanting to make a webcomic about how much you like Sonic The Hedgehog, and you’re scared dudes on the internet will call you slurs….yeah, probably, that’s a pretty reasonable fear to have. People are dicks. And if you make Sonic the Hedgehog comics you probably will get abuse.

But you’ll also get better.

Not by listening to the dipshits, of course, they’re not trying to help you and you should block them all and let them go back to their lairs. But by the practice. By viewing your own art and writing and realizing yourself how you can improve. You’ll get better, and you’ll eventually start to get some fans. Maybe not enough to make webcomics a profitable venture, but enough that you can block all the dickheads and still have some good comments left over, maybe even a fanart or two.

And, hey, if you’re willing to take that first step, it can be freeing in a way, as well. You don’t have to make a generic Sonic comic in the hopes of finding an audience and not attracting attention. You can go balls out with it. You want to make a dramatic magnum opus where Sonic and Shadow go back in time and fight in the Trojan War against Eggman’s Greek ancestor Robotnicles? You want to have lots of panels shot from a dramatic low angle even though you have no idea how to draw Sonic from an angle? Fuck it man, learn by doing, you’ll improve super fast by challenging yourself. And yeah, you’ll get people saying “lol cringe look at this loser”, probably in meaner language. But do you think Einstein popped out of the pussy drawing Mozart?

You’ll get better, and eventually all the cringe you’re making now you can put in an inspirational YouTube video a few years down the line. Or like how I post these old Legend of the Hare strips and it’s just fucking garbage.

Because - and here’s some real cringe for you coming up - Legend of the Hare was my first major webcomic, but it wasn’t the first thing I’d ever written. I did comedy writing in college. When I was in High School, I did improv theater. I was one of those kids, and I had jocks come up to me all “You like improv? You gay kid”. I did high school improv theater for five years (starting in 8th grade), and regularly said the dumbest shit and people would go “You gay kid” and sometimes I would wonder “Am I gay kid?” and stare out the window feeling sad.

And I did it, and I got better, and eventually I went to college. And in orientation, I did some improv stand-up. And that went okay. It went so okay I decided to do it on the first day of school in front of like a hundred people. And that time?

That time I bombed.

I bombed so fucking hard, dude. I bombed hard in front of all my new classmates, as my first impression. I knew I was bombing hard, I had nothing to fall back on, and I just kind of had to grind it out as I learned the hard way why “Improv Stand-Up” isn’t a thing that exists. And it knocked me out of the game for a year or two. I applied for a comedy writing job in my Sophomore year a few years later, and I got a call-back, but I didn’t get it. Had I tried harder, earlier, in those first two years of college I might have gotten some gigs, might be a better and more successful writer now. And now I take a few more shots, and I’m getting some measure of success. My comic is sort of popular, I’m in SpiderForest which is very validating, I’ve been published. And none of that would’ve happened if I’d given up after that cringe failure.

And maybe this is just a very longwinded way of going “Just try not having trauma, idiot, lol!. Maybe you need something more than I can give you and I hope you’re able to find it. But I think that falling on your face and eating shit sometimes is part of taking risks, and taking those risks can sometimes help you grow and thrive. You have to do what’s best for you and put yourself first, of course, And maybe that means you just make comics in your free time and don’t put them online until you’re more comfortable. And when you break through those early failures you might be surprised at what’s on the other side.

#advice #The Webcomic Review Reviews The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known

38 notes · View notes

allsystemsarenotgo · 5 years

Text

“The Novel”

I've been needing to talk to somebody about something. Last night, somebody I don't talk to very often anymore was willing to give up some sleep to talk to me.

I gave them the abridged version. I knew they needed sleep and didn't have time for a novel.

Here is "The Novel".

---

A child learns their name by having it spoken to them repetitively.

A pet learns its name by having it spoken to them repetitively.

When bullies call you gay and queer repetitively because you've never had a date much less a girlfriend in 12 years, ... At some point you begin to believe it.

When that trend continues to a statistic of 3.25 years of relationship out of 30 years of life.....

You begin to question the things you ever thought you knew.

I was an opinionated ass in high school that knew better but did the things anyways because I had nothing to really lose. Except I did lose alot of pride along the way.

I didn't like many things, and I didn't understand the decisions of many people. There are days that I wish I was still friends with people that I alienated or that alienated me because I didn't believe in drinking alcohol or having kids before college, or at a young age at all.

There are alot of days that I wonder....will I have to be find a lady 8-10 years younger than myself to love me for who I am...and potentially make them have kids at a young age so I'm not the age of their peers' grandpa's when they graduate?

^ That image was me in high school.

I never dated in high school. I courted and got shot down a ...couple... times. I didn't go to parties, I wasn't a part of the cool kids' clique. I didn't really....do anything high-schooley in high school.

And it got me bullied. My eccentricities made me well known. I was generally outspoken and firm on what I believed (no sex, no alcohol, scientifically agnostic) and...it basically made me live in infamy. It got me bullied alot. I was called gay and queer alot. And it wasn't just from 1 or 2 or 5 people.

I had 3 crushes in high school. Two were a grade younger than I.

The first I asked out my Sophomore year. We talked alot, sat next to eachother, did classwork together. We were both above-average students, so the teacher us let us do what we wanted while she dealt with the rest of the class.

That was really what entered me into the downward spiral of depression. I'd never asked a girl out before, much less been shot down. It took me a long time to get over that.

The second I asked out my junior year. We didn't have any classes together, but I had worked my way into her family via a mutual friend. I felt like we knew eachother fairly well.

Getting shot down by her didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. But given the nature of high school, the backlash of her friends and friends-of-friends, and probably half the school altogether...that is what hurt. It showed the true colors of many whom were already primadonna status, approaching it, or (falsely) thought they had it. She did apologize to me after a period of time, and ultimately, she probably made the better decision.

I never asked my third crush out. After being shot down twice in two years, I didn't want it to be three for three. I worked with her, and we got along awesome. Maybe not asking her was a fatal flaw in my life. I will never know. We have stayed friends over the years despite not seeing eachother until earlier this summer. I met up with her twice, and both times wrenched my emotions. I've since found out she is actually taken, which shot down my chance of ever knowing the true answer.

Then I finally went to college.

I went from a school of 450 kids in a town of 360 people to a dorm of 500+ kids in a college of 10,000+.

But I did not change with the scenery. I was still outspoken.

Neither of my roommates liked it.

Neither of my roommates liked me.

I was outspoken enough to write a persuasive essay on Abstinence for my college English class. I didn't see the problem.

Until the Prof said we had to read them aloud, after she had graded them.

Then I panicked. I crashed and I burned.

I felt so....little and insecure.

I wasn't one to force my thoughts on people. Yet, I just had.

Do you know how bad that feels inside?

Pretty damn bad.

One day, I got a message from a high school friend I hadn't talked to in a while. We started talking. In the end, she admitted she had a crush on me through high school and asked if we could give it a try. I was 1.5-2 hours away from home.

It was a hard juggle, but we made it work as best as somebody that'd never had a GF before much less a LDR could.

After a few months of LD dating and the start of my second year of college, a topic came up that would change the rest of my life mentally.

And something clicked in my head.

- What if this girl was 'the one'?

- What if something happened. Would I want to die a virgin?

- What if this doesn't work out. I'll always be the inexperienced one?

That last one hit me hard. There was no way around the fact. And for what I knew, I knew that being the lesser experienced would likely never be a good thing.

(10 years later, a friend put it perfectly....)

I convinced myself to break something that I had let run my life for the previous 10+ years.

I think it's safe to say that very few peoples' first time is "great". But it's a learning experience.

-learn-

Then we broke up after 9 months.

We rarely saw eachother, it couldn't be that difficult to get over right?

Wrong.

-sulk-

-lonely-

-stressed-

-imbalanced-

And...

-addicted-

I was broken. The fire inside of me had been lit, and nothing was putting it out.

I had a raging wildfire spreading within me within a few short weeks, and no way to control it.

I had just started a job at the school newspaper, running the website. I shared an office with the two graphic design artists. We were getting along pretty well and it was fairly evident that both of them were really relaxed and loose about what they wanted to talk about. I was the reserved one, sitting at my desk, listening with minimal contribution.

Until one day, I finally had the courage to chime in to their conversations. It didn't take much longer before I was in my second relationship.

I learned alot of new and different things during that 2.5 year relationship.

Example: telling her father about my shellfish allergy. It was good because he cooked alot of it. It was because he knew my weakness and made no secret that some things would easily justify using it against me.

I learned to get over my fear of public image. I was dating a woman almost twice my weight. When we first started...dating...I was petrified to be seen with/around her much less hold her hand. Over time that phobia subsided.

I learned that addiction comes in many forms. I spent many nights at her apartment, sometimes I went home and sometimes I didn't. Spending 4 hours a day with her at work and another 4-12 hours with her at her apartment...it got to the point that I missed her when I was away from her. I missed having her company, and I missed cuddling.

I learned that I'm very much a physical contact person. After all those years of being an only, lonely child...I wanted to give and receive physical touch.

She would print off a piece of artwork, I would lay on my stomach on her bed, and she would trace the outline onto my back, then start filling it in. That's usually when I would fall asleep. She would keep drawing as I slept, and eventually I would wake up.

As long as we were touching, I was happy. Sometimes I would lay on her, sometimes she would lay on me, sometimes we'd be side by side with a leg on the other.

I learned that calculated risks are worth calculating to the limit. And that mis-calculating is not fun.

I learned that parents are smart and figure out almost everything.

There was only one real issue and one hybrid issue with the relationship.

Both of us were mentally strained. I could not speak my emotions or feelings. I couldn't handle the 'adulting' conversations regarding the future. I couldn't explain when I was sad, mad, upset, or anxious in voice, only text. I couldn't "use my words". When scolded, I just wanted to ball up in a corner and cry. At the same time, both of our academics were on a downward spiral of death. She ended up dropping out completely and going back to junior college, I ended up changing majors twice and barely escaping with any pride left at all and a very expensive piece of paper that said "Bachelor of Science in Miscellaneous Bullshit". Okay, University Studies...but same thing.

The relationship had evolved far beyond what it had originally been intended to be.

It was supposed to be more of a cover-up for a FWB situation than an actual relationship. But we caught some sort of feelings, and....

I've been single since then.

It took a few years, but we still talk to eachother and are still friends.

But I miss the cuddles.

I miss the touching.

I miss being relaxed and falling asleep while being drawn on.

I miss...alot of things.

I had a few more crushes develop during college. Some I let go, some I got turned down on. At least none of them laughed at me.

One of the ones that I let go...I reconnected with a couple months ago. I was going to ask her out...and I kinda did...only to find out that she was secretly in a relationship that hadn’t gone public yet. That was a pretty good kick to the twig and berries, knowing that I was just too late to the party.

Once I learned about High Functioning Autism, alot of things made sense. I slowly learned better coping mechanisms. I learned to do more "normal" things like making eye contact.

My senior year of college, I met an awesome lady in my coding class. We got along great. She helped crack my shell. We went on walks, we played basketball, we played on pool tables, we played soccer. We sat on balconies and talked. We kind of...had a thing going. She was my only friend to attend my college graduation. We even took a picture together in my cap and gown (which I have tried many times to find. I'm guessing it was deleted....see below).

But we didn't. I wasn't allowed to hug her much less kiss her, even on the forehead (I wanted to...many times). I was barely allowed to hold her hand.

I got shot down. I felt like I was in a plane that was missing a wing and didn't have an ejection seat.

I plummeted into the ground and crashed and burned.

We stopped talking after that.

I still don't know what exactly I did wrong.

I could say that about many friends that I have lost over the years.

I still don't know what exactly I did wrong.

That was 5 or 6 years ago. I honestly don't remember anymore.

That's how long I have been lonely.

That's how long it has been since I went on a date.

That's how long I have not been able to have an unweighted conversation.

Sure, I have seen my second ex a time or three. But it's not the same. That's not a date. That's not something to lead to the future.

I have a two best friends that I can talk about almost anything with. But I never see them. One lives two states away, the other lives several hours away (any other state besides Texas, and they'd be in another state).

They help. They give me a method to vent. But I am afraid of losing them.

I have lost 3 best friends in my life already.

One cut me out of their life as a birthday present to me after 4 or 5 years, my freshman year in the dorm.

One cut me out of their life after many conflicts over 7 years. We never met in person.

One cut me out of their life after I became a burden to them. We saw eachother on a regular basis, I even stayed at their house once after they tried to break my shell and I (mentally) collapsed into a puddle of goo. They also hurt me once by calling the police for a welfare check, and my parents got involved.

Of the two best friends I have managed to keep, the closer of the two has issues in their own life going on right now. I feel guilty and sad for even talking to them...they have asked that I limit interaction while they try to straighten out their own world. They have also called the police on my for a welfare check, and got my co-workers involved.

I already had a hard time making friends before. Anymore, it's hard for me to trust anyone at all.

I don't have any friends to go places with.

I'm always working my ass off (working 7 days a week these days, haven't had a real day of rest in months).

Social Anxiety says that I can't go anywhere alone. Plus I don't really trust myself alone, much less in a foreign Environment.

How am I supposed to meet a friend, when I work my ass off 7 days a week? When I don't know what resting is?

How do I elevate a non-existent friend to "More than a friend" status?

A child learns their name by having it spoken to them repetitively.

A pet learns its name by having it spoken to them repetitively.

When bullies call you gay and queer repetitively because you’ve never had a date much less a girlfriend in 12 years, … At some point you begin to believe it.

When that trend continues to a statistic of 3.25 years of relationship out of 30 years of life…..

You begin to question the things you ever thought you knew.

Sometimes I wish I was Ace.

Sometimes I wish I knew what I am.

Historically, I can be described as a smart, odd, minimally sarcastic ignoramus. But that is only my personality.

Am I straight? Am I gay? Am I bi? Or am I just hopeless?

Will I ever find love? Will I ever have kids?

Is there something wrong with me that revolts women away?

Will I have to find a woman 8-10 years younger than myself and cause her to have children at a young age to avoid being the age of their peers' grandparents at graduation? If I find a woman now, we date for 3 years, engaged for 1, married for 3, then have a kid...I'll be 37 when they are born and 55 when they graduate high school.

We're the bullies in high school right all this time? I don't want them to be. But what if they are? Or am I just that broken inside?

The things that I like/enjoy...they scare me a little. And that's coming from me. For years I have said I was a sapiosexual (turned on by intelligence rather than personality or looks)...but it never occurred to me, what if the gender lines do not in-fact exist? What if....

These are the questions that keep me awake at night.

These are the questions that feed my depression.

These are the scenarios that feed my anxiety, my trust issues, my loneliness.

These are the reasons that, more than anything....I will never turn down a hug.

Because a hug means you love and care about me.

And I need that reassurance.

But it feels good on the inside, too.

0 notes