weird, dark, & broke

waiting for my car to be fixed–or to not be fixed as it turned out–i did this doodle.  no.  i don’t do drugs.  my head is just a weird place to live.  sometimes too weird.  sometimes too dark.  but there it is.  being weird & dark helps in the art department.

i was getting my car fixed because i’m trying to sell it.  all day long, i stress about money.  i have none, and i don’t know how to get any.  ever since i was 17 i was financially independent.  all my life.  then i became a stay-at-home mom, and my worth plummeted in the eyes of society, at least (not to my kids.)  i have no idea how to make money.  becoming financially dependent on someone else, especially someone who loved pointing that out to me, really fucked up my sense of independence & self.  for awhile there i was able to do some freelance writing while raising kids, but i couldn’t keep it up.  writing “how-to” articles was just sucking the soul right out of me. so i switched to being a student–figuring i would get my degree & then i would be worth something.  but now i feel like that is just my swimming in circles.  so now what do i do?

sell my car?

sell my art?

turns out–i’m a terrible salesperson.  i can’t sell my car.  i can’t sell myself.  i don’t know the value of anything.  i suspect that every potential customer is just rejection waiting to happen.  i see rejection everywhere i look.  low self-esteem?  that’s probably an understatement.  weird thing is–i love my car & i love my art & i would totally buy either one of them (in fact, i did buy my car)…but when i look at myself, my art, even my car, through other people’s eyes–i just feel like a joke.

so here i am.  weird.  dark.  & broke.