self-worth | Sammy thrashLife

"Nothing's Good Enough Because I'm Not." 4/7/14. Acrylic paint, ink, and modeling paste. 48x36". — “Nothing’s Good Enough Because I’m Not.” 4/7/14. Acrylic paint, ink, and modeling paste. 48×36″.

I went quite a while without any emotional freakouts or serious anxiety when I suddenly found myself on a mental illness hot streak. At the root of it all (of course): girls. It’s nothing anyone does to me; it’s the way I interact and get involved and then am unable to handle the reality of the relationships I’ve built. These days, I’m lucky to have a way out of these messes I make that’s a lot more effective than shooting heroin or throwing temper tantrums. The journal I wrote in this painting lays it all out:

The highs this week have been absurd. Three nights ago, I exclaimed, "I'm on drugs!" I felt too good for it to not be some kind of chemical magic. But the next night, I cried out twice; first: "I hate my life!" Then: "I am the worst person in the world!" I felt so bad about myself. Seeing the state this girl was in. "It was wrong for me to trick her into falling in love with me," I thought. But I was in love with her at the time. Or so I thought at least.

The night before, I tried to have sex with this other girl that's gotten to know me pretty well pretty fast. She knows about all the other girls and is pretty enamored with me but is really caught up in not wanting to be "just another" of my "conquests" (as she put it). We got naked but then she wouldn't let me lead 'cause she didn't wanna feel used. But she wasn't taking the lead either. "I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FUCK YOU" was all I could think. It ended uncomfortably. I wasn't pleased with myself. We're supposed to give it another shot when I'm back in her city. But that sort of says it all right there. 'Cause I don't live anywhere, I'm not gonna date anyone anyway, and she likes me way too much for this little casual thing to end well.

Yesterday, I TOOK THE NIGHT OFF.

Tonight, I'm at a friend's house alone 'cause a couple hours ago I left the girl who I THOUGHT I had the best thing going with. I like spending time with her. But she was visibly bothered by my cigarette smoke today. And after I brushed my teeth and tried to kiss her, she still turned her cheek. I tried to play it cool but I'M NOT COOL. An hour later, I packed it in and left with minimal words. Feeling self-conscious, rejected, vulnerable, angry, hurt, and responsible. These girls all read my blog now. They know explicit details of what I'm up to. I can't NOT acknowledge it. I made a couple jokes… Is that what did it? I don't know. But all my finding-validation-through-girls shit is seriously backfiring on me this week.

After I left, I got pizza and listened to punk rock. Suddenly, my suicidal depression was over and everything was okay. "Pizza and punk rock" doesn't strike the ear as especially poetic and it makes me sound like a pretty trivial, simple-minded dweeb.

IS WHAT IT IS!

After I painted my "nothing's good enough" caption, everything was way better than okay. I was in love with myself and my silly doodle art again. And that's my god damn story.

I felt better (temporarily) but I didn’t really learn anything. Within a day, I was back to trying to get my self-esteem from girls, love, sex, etc. It was harder now though. This whole episode had fucked with my head a little bit and the next week – after leaving another girl’s house (not any of the three involved in the above-described antics) – I worried that I had forgotten how to sleep with a girl (even when the girl clearly wanted to sleep with me). I had become too self-conscious and insecure to make any kind of a move. Well that was it… I guess I’m never going to get laid again! (I thought). But then she sent me a text – she wanted me to come back. Which really only meant one thing at that hour. So I did. And all was well in the world.

And when I say that, I’m joking – but when I pause… it’s not really a joke. I absolutely felt validated by sleeping with that girl that night. In a very real, very significant way. Had it not played out like that, I would have sunk even deeper into insecurity and shame. Instead, I was pulled completely out of it and actually regained the confidence that I always seem to have (even when I don’t). A few days later, I met up with another girl who had bought some of my art at One Spark. We went on a “date” (kind of) and she invited me to stay the night. But she didn’t want to sleep with me. My freshly bolstered self-worth was high enough though that I was able to accept that rejection (with a smile even)! I don’t need for EVERYONE to want to fuck me all the time.

Sometimes!

“Wait For It … Wait For It!!” (the song I was listening to when I started to feel better) by Dead to Me.

This painting sold in April 2014. 12×16″ prints are still available.

I sold a lot of my stuff online today. Some leftover distro stock, but a lot of personal stuff too. Tonight, I borrowed Heather’s car to scrounge up cardboard boxes to ship these things in. At the gas station where I found most of my cardboard, I also found a couple. Homeless, fucked up. Not totally unlike me a year or so ago. They wanted money and I told them I had none. I gave them a couple cigarettes and used my food stamps to get them something to drink. They wanted a ride and I told them that it wasn’t my car. They had a pretty great sob story about why they couldn’t walk. I told them I’ve fucked up too many things in my life. That I was sorry, but I can’t give strangers a ride in a car that I’ve been trusted to borrow. I can’t take any risks.

It was sad and it sucks but it’s also [whatever]. It just is. And it’s not a big deal. But I’m proud of myself for saying “no” and for being honest about the reason why.

“Out All Day.” 6/18/13. Marker and pen on canvas board. 8x10". — “Out All Day.” 6/18/13. Marker and pen on canvas board. 8×10″.

Says, “I was out all day. No one told me I had paint in my hair ’til 11 pm. I had a shirt with me in case I went to the library. I couldn’t be happier.”

This was only my second piece done entirely with markers. My first was “Powerless Over Flexeril,” but since then I’ve done more. While on tour, I made “Lost in St. Louis” and “Fear is Killing Me” and more recently I made “Still Sick,” one of my largest pieces to date.

A couple hours before I made this, someone told me they liked my outfit and I thought they were making fun of me ’cause I barely wear any clothes. She was serious though. It made me think about how I really like the fact that I have the sort of life that rarely requires a shirt (and even more rarely requires a shirt with sleeves or a collar). I like the fact that I have the sort of life where I can have paint on my hands, on my arms, my face, and my hair, and – not only is it not an issue or a problem but – it’s not even something that anybody comments on.

As anyone that saw my painting from last night (“Blueprint For a Successful Evening“) can probably guess, things were a little off when I got up this morning. But I went about my day, did my own thing, didn’t stress about it, and everything worked out perfectly.
I’ve said it before, but it’s still true – so long as I’m cool, so is everything else.

By the way, it’s not easy leaving white space on the canvas. So – you know – be REALLY impressed by that AMAZING feat.

(This next part – don’t get me wrong: I’m not majorly bumming out or anything like that but) I am feeling just a little bit sorry for myself tonight. Or I was earlier today anyway. With all the traffic to my webstore today (people buying records and books) I’d have thought that I’d have sold at least a little bit of my artwork. But I didn’t. I can think of a lot of reasons for that (some are a little more disconcerting than others) but like the couple I met tonight at the gas station, the reasons don’t really matter. It just is how it is. And my life is still pretty excellent. And I need to remember to be grateful for that. I need to focus on all of the good things. Lucky for me, there are a lot of them so it’s not all that difficult.

And if there’s something in my life that I’d like to be different, then I need to be bold. And brave. I need to take healthy risks and I need to take responsibility for actually making change happen. I don’t just get to have the life I want. I have to be the person I want to be and do the things that… that I need to do. I have to work at it. Whatever [it] might be.

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Signed and numbered 9×11¼” prints of “Out All Day” are available in my webstore. The original sold in November 2013.