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Hi there! The name's Brandon. As you probably already guessed, I'm a huge Animaniacs fan. I also have a persona, which is part of the OC family on the Kraft side. You can learn more about him here: bellybuttonbrandon.deviantart.…
I invite you to stay for a while and check out my gallery! And if you're interested, go ahead and ask me about doing an art trade or commission!
Did you ever think you were a little...off? Well, you are. You're silly and playful, often to the point of wacky outbursts, and nonsensical rambling. You're the type who'd talk in an English accent just to be different. You like to be prepared, as well, even if the things you bring with you don't necessarily make sense. You're good at making stuff up on the spot, and tend to have to use the bathroom at lot. Click here to see my Livejournal.
Favorite visual artistRoy Lichtenstein, Favorite moviesThe Fountain, Gravity, Children of Men, Prisoners, Batman Begins, Collateral, The Iron Giant, Amadeus, InterstellarFavorite TV showsAnimaniacs, Pinky and the Brain, Batman:The Animated Series, Daria, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (the hand-drawn one), LostFavorite bands / musical artistsClint Mansell, Steven Price, Hans Zimmer, James Newton Howard, James Horner (all film score composers), Miles Davis, Coleman Hawkins (both jazz), Eva Cassidy (Blues), Paul Oakenfold (Dance), Busdriver (hip-hop), Donald Fagen/Steely Dan (pop rock)Favorite booksWatchmen, V for Vendetta, Less Than Zero, American Psycho (not trying to be all edgy or anything :XD:), The Great GatsbyFavorite writersBret Easton Ellis, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Alan Moore, Neil Gaiman, Matt TaibbiFavorite gamesTeam Fortress 2, Garry's mod, Lego, Cards Against HumanityFavorite gaming platformPC, baby!Tools of the TradeFaber-Castell 2H pencil, Prismacolor markers and pencils, Adobe Illustrator, InkscapeOther InterestsCooking, acting, singing
Hello, my friends. I am just writing this to say that I am back on DA and will try to answer everyone's comments, replies, ect. as fast as possible. It really helped to spend some time to myself for a while and I'm glad to be back with friends. I'm sorry that I have some dramatic tendencies, but I guess that's normal for someone in my situation. I work to improve my well-being in part so that I create less stress in the lives of my friends. That kind of work involves being kind to oneself, and so I have been trying to adopt a positive outlook on life. Today happens to be my birthday, which is certainly a good time to adopt such an outlook. Tonight, I'll be off to see Ratchet and Clank (again ), so toodles until then!
I guess I'm breaking my hiatus by writing this. I'm sorry everyone. I never have anyone to turn to in real life when I need support. I'm only able to talk about it here on the internet. I don't want you to respond if doing so hurts you too much. I remember what it was like when my father made me comfort him in his extreme fits of depression, and I don't want others to feel that pain. I am also sorry if I haven't responded to your guys' journals when you go through hard times. It's because I have become incredibly fragile and cannot take on other people's stress, which I guess makes me a hypocrite right now. I am so sorry to worsen your lives through my constant venting, because god knows, the last thing I ever want is to put my own friends in distress and alienate them. But I cannot STAND what's happening to me. I am so sick of it. I'm sick of screaming into pillows and weeping hysterically and ripping out my hair and banging my head on a wall like I did tonight. I'm sick of scratching myself when everyone laughs at me or treats me like shit. I just hate everything about my life right now. I hate having no way to block these absolutely MENACING thoughts that barrage my mind something like 40 times every day. No matter what I do, those fucking thoughts of my own worthlesness and that stupid goddamn series of frozen-animaniacs pictures make my entire body and mind burn inside. No one was meant to live a life of emotional agony and wake up every morning with the belief that the entire world is out to ruin their life and be unable to focus on anything during the day because of those fucking thoughts and have to force themself to sleep at 8 at night because their emotions and those triggering fucking pictures literally dominate their mind and the only way out is to sleep until they wake up the next day and start all over again. My self-destructive tendencies aren't exactly helping either. I can't believe I'm this helpless, but I literally looked up those frozen pictures tonight. I have no idea what makes me do it! It's like I'm a different person when it happens, and some bizarre part of me is trying to ruin my life even more, and every time I see those pictures they become twice as deeply embedded in my mind as they were before.I find myself wishing that theur creator would just delete them all or something, even though that goes against all my principles. I read the fucking description that talks about yakko showing off his fucking powers to his siblings, and talks about how much he fucking loves having those special abilities. It said "he doesn't know how he got them, but he loves them. He loves having them, and showing the fruits of them to his siblings." HE FUCKING LOVES HAVING THEM. HE LOVES HAVING THOSE ABILITIES JUST LIKE I WOULD, BUT I'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO EXPERIENCE THE FEELING OF HAVING VALUE. HE LOVES BEING INHERENTLY BETTER THAN HIS SIBLINGS, JUST LIKE EVERY FUCKING PERSON I KNOW LOVES BEING A BETTER HUMAN BEING THAN ME AND HAVING A BETTER LIFE THAN I WILL EVER HAVE. I can't get this horrifying image out of my head: this image of yakko enjoying his special abilities while Wakko tries desperately to create ice or something, but can't, and he becomes heartbroken all of a sudden as he realizes that he CAN'T FUCKING DO IT and that he's not special like his brother. And then of course, I immediately put myself in that situation and feel every bit of heartbreak along with him. Except that I experience it forty times every single day of my life. It's POISONING me. I'm having vivid nightmares about twice as often as I did before. I am gagging just thinking about this. I wish I were dead, but I'll never have the guts to make it happen because part of my OCD involves being terrified of some kind of unrealistic religious torment after I die. I don't even believe in god! Yet somehow, this toxic condition I have makes me latch on to the fear of being mercilessly tortured in hell forever that my parents instilled in me when I was young! My parents: a father who emotionally and sexually abused me and then disowned me, and a mother who threatened to disown me and never apologized for it and acts like it never happened. A mother whom I can never ask for comfort and never tell about what's happening to me right now because she stopped giving me emotional support because she can't take it anymore. It just...it just feels like every inch of me is screaming out in pain. I want a better life so badly. But I realized something. My fears of being inferior are not fears. There's truth to them. Just like yakko's siblings can never feel the joy of being special or doing anything amazing or being appreciated or HAVING ANY FUCKING WORTH, I will never feel the joy of being special, or the sense that there is any value in me as a person, or being truly, honestly loved and cared for by my family. It's an inability. They are unable to use stupid fucking made-up ice powers, no matter how hard they try, and will be doomed to watch their brother remind them of their OVERWHELMING FUCKING INFERIORITY EVERY DAY FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIVES. They were made inferior to others. And I will ALWAYS be UNABLE to live a happy life, free of mental disorders, no matter how hard I try. No matter what, there is NOTHING I can do to free myself. It's a fucking INABILITY. And people I know in real life have been GIFTED with the ABILITY to live good lives and not be hindered by the kind of mental problems I deal with. I was made inferior to others. If some higher being made me, they decided it would be amazing to turn me into a piece of worthless human slime that would be FORCED to watch EVERYONE ELSE grow to become BETTER than me and live more fulfilling lives than me and have more talent than me and have loving families and LAUGH AT ME AND MAKE FUN OF ME FOR FUN, AS THEY ALWAYS DO. To me, my worth as a human being is fucking non-existent. I mean, holy shit, what the hell do I have to offer that others don't? WHAT THE FUCK CAN I DO THAT OTHERS CAN'T? Looking back on it now, it just becomes more obvious every day why my father fucking killed my happiness for good and left me, and why my old theatre teacher convinced me I was special and then gave all her attention and all the leading roles to others with GOOD FUCKING LIVES WHO HAVE THE ABILITY TO BE HAPPY. God damnit, I felt like no one loved me in her overblown theatre program that convinces people that their worth hinges on the size and number of roles they get and that if they don't get one, they might as well slit their fucking throats for the entertainment of others because they have the INABILITY to be more than worthless. And when I did finally get one decent role, everyone told me, "Wow, I had no idea you could sing or act!" That proves it! That proves that eveyone knew I was just worthless, meaningless, INCAPABLE shit. And now I'm an eighteen year old BRAT OF A CHILD who has gone insane and can't look at a bunch of frozen fanart or even the stupid merchandise in stores because it instantly sends me into a fit of uncontrollable weeping and hysterics and hatred for myself over my INABILITY to do ANYTHING special. And how the hell can I talk to a professional about this? I mean, what do I tell them? That my brain has made a connection between a children's film and my unresolved trauma that turns me into a twitching, roaring mess when the thought of it crosses my mind, and that I have an unexplainable urge to look up fucking fanart that triggers those kinds of reactions? My head hurts. It hurts from all the crying and screaming and wailing and banging it on a wall and tearing out my hair in emotional agony. And my chest hurts because I've been hyperventilating when I experience episodes of anxiety due to my self hatred. Finally realizing that I have INABILITIES compared to others and that I will never be free of my OCD is sending me over the edge. It's like every single inch of me is on fire, and there is no way out for me. I just want to be free! I want to have the ability to live a happy life and control my own emotions. I wanna stop crying and hold someone and be made to think that I have a shred of worth or an ability to be amazing and not doubt any of it for a second. I wanna be free from my shit, inferior, worthless life! I have to escape this, and I can't, ever! I just wanna be cured, or dead, or something so I can finally be at peace!
Hi, everybody. This might seem a little dark, so read ahead at your own risk.
I'm afraid I haven't been doing so well lately. College is wonderful, of course, but I've been putting myself under a LOT of unnecessary and/or imagined stress. My depression seems to have improved quite a bit, but the real problem is obsessive-compulsive disorder. I've always dealt with it in the form of physical tics, but looking back on the last several years, I've realized it's more responsible for my constant barrage of negative thoughts - especially my self-hatred - than my depression. (In case you are unclear about OCD, it is not a matter of simply being annoyed at imperfectly alligned objects or anything like that. It is a disorder categorized by patterns of recurring intrusive thoughts that cause one to perform bizarre, illogical rituals in order to ease and distract the person from those thoughts.) My OCD involves extremely vivid thoughts of me somehow being inherently inferior to others, which cause an instant resurgence in uncontrollable behaviors that somehow ease the pain, such as letting out swear words, twitching violently, yelling, and as ashamed as I am to admit this, occasional stratching of my hands. Another part of having OCD is dealing with extremely violent thoughts, even though I do not have the desire to act them out in real life. Without going into too much detail, every single time I encounter a trigger for my condition, I experience vivid images of myself engaging in self-harm, or suicide. It's not me. I am NOT a psychopath or a future serial killer, as people have described me in the past. I am a person who has dealt with this debilitating condition since birth.
Unfortunately, my condition is very easily triggered. This week, for instance, the entirety of my 2D art class (including the professor) laughed out loud at me for my interpretation of an art piece, and I felt an enormous surge of anger and a sense of worthlessness instantly arise inside me. It was bad enough that I did actually scratch up the skin on one of my hands. I feel terrible about myself even saying that.
As I mentioned a long time ago in a journal, I have this strange connection in my mind with the movie Frozen and my own inferiority complex. (I'm not sure if it's a legitimate complex. Not trying to self-diagnose here, but I am trying to understand myself.) The whole idea of Elsa having these special powers while her sister Anna does not gives me this overwhelming sense of dread and sadness over the idea of a person being inferior to someone else, and I literally cannot help but experience all the self-hatred I would feel if I were in the inferior character's place. The only way I can really describe what I feel at the time is that it is equivalent in stress to screaming until you cannot talk. As you are probably aware, I am a huge Animaniacs fan, in part because it was a sort of mental safe haven for me while I was undergoing my father's abuse. There's an artist around here who has recently created a lot of artwork based on a Frozen-Animaniacs crossover conceived by a different artist altogether, and it keeps on showing up when I am browsing or checking my notifications. (I don't watch said artist, obviously, but it appears in various dA groups I watch.) In all honesty, each time I see it, I start gagging and feel this physical pressure inside my head that comes with the sudden recurrence of self-hatred, extreme sadness, and agonizing frustration. I'm feeling all of that right now, to tell the truth. I've been losing a ton of sleep this last week because I keep encountering those stupid pictures. They're completely burned into my mind: I must think of them between 30-50 times every day.
I have to give myself a break. Last night, I was up till 4:00 trying to research ways to block these kinds of thoughts, and I also spent a ton of time deliberately looking up those images and anything else that triggers a negative emotional reaction. Self-destructive tendencies seem to go hand-in-hand with mental illnesses, though I promise it is not something I want to engage in. I literally cannot help it. I think it might be some twisted way my mind is trying to nullify anything that triggers it, though I'm not certain of that. I am going on hiatus for about a week or two to see if I can recover. Even being on this site to answer notes/comments seems to lead to one of those pictures, and if not, my self-destructive tendencies take over and I go looking for them anyway. I'm hoping that spending some time away from dA with let the mental images of those pictures recede. My lack of sleep and crippling sense of inferiority due to the idea of that stupid crossover have also made me too exhausted to work out, which is crucial for maintaining a healthly mind. I cannot afford to sink any lower than where I am right now. I'm trimming down my fingernails as a last-measure resort to stop my self-harm, I'm socially isolating myself from others, I'm going to bed early every single night, I'm allowing myself time to work on my own creative art and music projects, and I'm working out rigorously every day. Those pictures are causing me emotional agony. I CANNOT let myself sink this low. I'm doing some emergency management now, because I cannot go on if I let my sense of inferiority get the better of me.
So last night, I got a letter from my new doctor saying I have an inflamed liver, similar to hepatitis. It's almost certainly due to a medicine I was taking for my ADD (Strattera), which was literally useless anyway (though my psychiatrist insisted I continue taking it for years in spite of that ). I hadn't felt any severe pain so far, but today, I had what felt like pretty bad indigestion, which might possibly relate back to my liver problem. The healthcare up here in rural Wisconsin isn't particularly great, partly due to very little job competition (a nurse with cerebral palsy was given the job of drawing my blood, and she missed the vein ), so hopefully I won't have to go for any long-term hospital treatments. I've never had anything like this before, but if any of you have had similar experiences, I would really appreciate some info.
Apparently, liver pain forms somewhere around the bellybutton, and seeing as my bellybutton needs to feel 1000% perfect at all times in accordance with my personality (and OC), this whole ordeal is far from satisfactory. Perhaps I can get the best possible care from the hospital if I tell them how urgently I need my tummybutton to return to its wonderful self. After all, can you possibly imagine me having to cope with a sub-par tummybutton?
I'm sorry to say that my wonderful cat, Katie, died today. I am currently away at college, meaning that my mother took her to the vet alone due to a recent bout of sickness, and discovered that she had severe gingivitis and a possible impacted bowel. The doctor tried to examine her, but apparently Katie howled in pain when he touched her. He explained that even if he was able to perform a successful examination, he wouldn't be able to guarantee that there'd be a way to help her. She was quite old - 13 and a half years - and extensive procedures can be harmful for older pets. Both my mother and the doctor agreed that euthanasia was a good option. I think I do, as well. I love my pets dearly, and I consider them to be part of my family, but I would never want them to be in a practically incurable state of pain.
Katie was a darling cat. She had never once bitten, scratched, or otherwise caused harm to anyone she met. Every day when we came home, she would would run straight to the door and roll around while purring wildly due to the excitement of seeing "her people," as we called ourselves. She'd come to bed with me every night: when I laid down to sleep, she would jump on my bed and cuddle up to me with her back against my chest, letting me lay my arms around her as we fell to sleep together. During the day, I - or any of us - could never sit down without her taking the opportunity to snuggle up on our laps. On top of that, she was so in love with people that she would treat any visitor like one of the family. I once had a birthday party that included about 30 people, and she was just so happy to meet others and share her love with them.
I think it's important to mention that Katie was there for me all throughout my time living with my father. She helped me get through the experience with her love, no matter how simple or inhuman people may consider the affections of an animal. I would honestly say she managed to save my life once. One night, I felt more useless, unloved, and hated than I had ever felt in my life, and I was on the brink of suicide. I felt like no one in my life loved me anymore. But just before I went through with it, Katie wandered over to me and laid down on my lap, purring with the comfort of being with me. She made me realize that I was still loved, and loved dearly. She may not have known the good she did, but I have always been so grateful to her for that deed.
Over the past year, I began to see that age was wearing her down. She had a major surgery last year for a debilitating gum condition that caused severe oral pain and claimed most of her teeth. I think that stands as an example of just how rapidly she was fading away. Before I left for college, I had a feeling that it might be the last time I ever saw her, so the last thing I did before I left was take the time to cuddle her for a while. In fact, I managed to stroke her to the point that she fell asleep with relaxation, purring softly all the while. I don't think there's any better goodbye I could have given her.
I thought I'd share a few photos of her with you, as well as the only video of her we have. At the very least, it will show you a small fraction of the love she was capable of giving and receiving.
I also want to include a scene from The Iron Giant, a film I have loved since I was a kid. Through beautiful music and absolutely touching dialogue, it talks about death, and how its eventual happening doesn't end a person. Someone we love can never really die.
Rest in peace, Katie. I'll always love you, and I'll always be with you. I'm your big, caring human, you know. I'm your family, and you're mine.