Documenting my downfall

Good Media Is Dead

Brand & name recognition are all companies & consumers care about these days. The possibility of luring in a large audience, & therefore more money, is more important to those in charge of entertainment media than promoting a small artist who has something new to offer to the world.

Movies now are made to be second monitor entertainment. They're being pumped out with the most generic storylines & rely on the A-list celebrity cast to draw in the crowd to generate revenue. These days if I see a movie has a stacked A-list cast then I won't bother watching it, it's probably just a cash grab with a shitty story. There's a reason why I'm enjoying films from the last century more than the current. It's the same reason why I'm enjoying B-movies more than big studio named pieces. There's actual passion involved. The unknown cast & low budget ensure that for it to be good, the story has to be good.

I've been watching a lot of Italian horror films from the 70s lately. Real low budget, no translation, no massive sets & no implanted products to be subconsciously sold. The reliance on the creativity & how the film is assembled is what makes them good. The thought put into the character development & motivations, the low-budget set design & practical effects, the way they want to tell a new story that's interesting enough to make a 2 hour film not feel like it's a slog. I miss these kinds of films.

I quite enjoyed the stuff that a24 has been picking up lately. Films from indie directors like Ti West(Pearl, X, Maxxxine), the Phillippou brothers(Talk To Me), Ari Aster(Hereditary, Midsommar), the Daniels(Everything Everywhere All At Once), & many more have been the films that actually evoke thought & stay in my mind long after I've finished them. I enjoy how a24 choose to pick up indie films that have already been made & just need the extra funding & then support those filmmakers for their career from then on. They choose to pick up unknowns with potential to create new worlds & stories & give them that platform & funds to continue sharing these new genuinely creative films with the world. The same seems to be happening with music.

These days my music taste has veered off towards bands who record in their living rooms. I feel they have so much more to say & different ways to get those thoughts across. They don't care about what beats, instruments & sounds are popular & more likely to get picked up on YouTube or Spotify recommended songs, the music is more raw & personal.

These pieces of media will never get the funding they need, companies won't take risks on unknowns, or new IPs that they can't guarantee will profit. This is how we lose art. The instability to financially continue by not being given chances to show their potential. It's almost impossible to climb up out of the bottomless pit towards the mainstream media & the companies responsible for putting those medias on the top. These kinds of artists who have stories & worlds to share with the world will never get the platform that they need. Unless we all intentionally try & search out the undiscovered & independent artists.

It's hard to relate to or like media that is so obviously made just to be consumed & not thought about further. Why would larger studios & companies care to pick up new stories & new art when they can't guarantee a big payout in the end.

Art isn't dead. It's just hidden from us. We have to actively search it out to find it. The truly artistic & entertaining media will always be hidden from us, we just have to make the effort to sift through the cash-grab dog shit that's hiding it from us.

I'm Tired

Sometimes the world just feels too loud. Existing just feels heavy. I feel homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I wish the world weren't like this.
It's not like I want to die, it's just like "do I have to keep showing up to this?" I'm just tired boss

May Part 2

I'm not sure if the world is just against me somehow. That someone must be making things go the way they are for their own enjoyment. It's becoming increasingly difficult to differentiate dreams from reality. I don't know what's actually happened. If I'm being set up to fail in this world then for what purpose? Who benefits? Even thinking has become difficult. Stringing words together into coherent sentences uses up so much mental battery. I don't know why it's becoming so difficult. I've spent more time out of my head than in it so maybe I'm becoming an observer of myself instead of being myself, therefore my thoughts aren't mine. I'm restricted. Why is this happening?

Thoughts as of lately - May 2025

I'm finding it difficult to find my place in this world. Working fulltime doesn't afford a rental. Everything expensive I own seems to be breaking, like my car & my phone. I can't afford to fix or replace them. I'm trying to just enjoy life & find joy in the small things, but it's hard when you don't have that foundation of stability to fall back onto.

It's genuinely becoming extremely difficult to not just want to end things, the basics that we're told to strive for (housing, employment, a family) are all unachieveable for me by myself on a single fulltime income. I just need some real estate to accept that I can pay rent on time & fully, because I'm fully okay with having no spare money, just as long as I can have a space of my own.

I just really need to find my place in this world, physically & metaphorically. Living is becoming stressful & too much.

History

I've always been anxious. I don't remember a time in my life where I wasn't. I remember my first anxiety attack being at age 6. I never got help from schooling or family for this, I was left to handle the daily anxieties to myself.

I don't remember the first time I felt depressed specifically, but I was probably around 10 yrs old. I'm unsure of the root cause of all this. It's likely from being both ignored & overly protected as a child. Being unable to trust those I should've in fear of being dismissed, while also being blamed for my own feelings. I hate knowing there was something obviously wrong with me but also knowing no one was going to take me seriously or help me. It was around the age of 10 I also felt uncomfortable being a girl.

At age 10, I never knew what this feeling truely was. I just assumed it was a fear of growing up, after all, I was an extremely anxious & fearful child.

At age 12 I began to stop talking at school. The anxiety got so bad I couldn't speak. I dreaded answering the teacher when they'd call my name to make sure who was in class. It'd be all I thought about, knowing it was something I HAD to be verbally responsive to. Over time teachers stopped calling my name, knowing I was there anyways. It was around this time I couldn't handle knowing something was wrong with me & I also became very depressed to the point of suicidality.

At age 13 I began to self-harm to attempt to supress the suicidal thoughts. These thoughts would be almost daily. I couldn't help knowing that other people didn't have sleepless nights just for saying "here", & also that not everyone else felt uncomfortable with how they were growing up.

At age 14, I did have friends I was comfortable around. Having friends has never been an issue for me, I always found people that were okay with me just listening to them & only saying a few words. This age is when, after a day I spent at a friend's house, she had told me something her mum had said to her. At this time I only wore baggy tshirts & button up shirts. I wore a jumper 100% of the time too. Her mum had told her "if DEADNAME wants to be a boy or anything, they're always safe here". I dismissed it at the time as I'd never thought about the discomfort in that way. I'd never heard of that concept before. I had bigger things to worry about, like my obviously worsening anxiety & depression, so I pushed it back for a later time to think about.

It never was fully pushed back though. As much as I tried to not think about it, it always slipped through. I didn't do anything about it though. I didn't think I could.

At age 15, I remember having to do a speech in English class. My teacher had already approved that I could do my speech at lunch with only her in the room. I stuttered & shook the entire 2 minute speech, trying not to have an anxiety attack cuz I just needed to read words out to an empty room. I finished the speech & thought I had done okay. My english teacher only stared at me after the speech & then proceeded to ask questions I had no answers to.

"So what exactly is it that's wrong with you? Do your parents know? Maybe I should tell the councillor." All of this said in the most condescending & disgusted tone.

I was late to my next class because I was sitting near the trees just having what I would say is the biggest anxiety attack I've ever had. That same friend from before was with me, & also was in my next class. We got to class late but I stayed outside while my friend explained what had happened. We were allowed to skip class that day. The teacher came outside to check on us & I had shut down at that point, which concerned her enough to let the councillor know. Over that year I had made some obviously suicidal remarks & jokes, which lead to her having a chat with me & suggesting I talk to the councillor. She was the only teacher who genuinely gave a fuck, so thank you Ms Benson, your film & tv class was my best part of school.

Nothing happened with the councillor though. She was terrible.

At age 18 I was studying library services at TAFE. There was one assignement which involved a roleplay so we could be cleared to go do work experience. This was the first occurence that I recall my anxiety attacks turning into just pure shutting down. I seem to get memory loss in these situations but I remember being in the TAFE councillor's office & him making a comment about the rubberband I was fidgeting in patterns with. It was this point I became hyper-aware of my movements & actions.

There were plenty of additional scenarios over the years when I worked in the library, then went to uni for animation, then working at Bunnings, then when working in animation, but they all muddle together. There were plenty of moments during this time I had selfharmed or came close to killing myself. It was also during this time I got over the fear of my parents finding out how anxious I was & would hate me for getting help. Looking back, they obviously knew since childhood that there was something wrong, they just did nothing. I ended up trying therapy, seeing psychologists, starting medication, & I was able to verbalise in public settings for the first time in years. Ultimately, these things only helped with the anxiety.

Working in animation, I felt more secure in life, financially, & like I was finally on track. During this time I felt a lot of the depression slip into the background, allowing for the discomfort with who I was to creep up. Animation is a very queer space. This is where I first learned properly what being trans was, & I was finally in an okay headspace to confront my own thoughts on this. I had spent so many years telling myself everyone felt this way & it was dumb to be caught up on it, & it took years since the realisation to even accept it for myself. It was at my second animation job that I started going by my last name & gender neutral pronouns. Anything to distance myself from DEADNAME & "she". This felt better, but not fully. I was too scared to take the step into realising I was a transguy. When I got my first binder at 22, & the support of my boyfriend at the time, that's when I finally started to settle into being okay with it.

I was still held back by the anxiety surrounding my family. Any way that I was slightly different, they took as an attack to them personally, so I hid this. Then within the same month I lost my job, all my savings, my rental, & my relationship. This time is definitely a 'before & after' moment for me regarding my mental health. I realised that absolutely nothing in life is secure. Everything can be taken from you in an instant. You can & likely will just wake up one day & everything isn't the same as it once was.

It was this point where I realise I have major issues with the concept of security. Nothing in life is secure. Nothing is ever truely yours.

I started a new job at this time, & moved back in with my parents. This job has been the most respectful & friendly place I've ever worked. It was here I felt comfortable fully coming out after a few months. I'd only ever gone by my last name here, so it wasn't much change, & I work in isolation, so again not much change. I'm very grateful for this place.

As always, once one thing is resolved, something else creeps back in. Since then I have gone to more psychs & tried different meds, but the suicidal thoughts continue. It's been over a decade now of suicidality & breakdowns, & harming myself to satiate the urges to kill myself. I feel as though I have exhausted every option up to this point for help, so am just trying to live with it. I do feel as though something more is wrong with me. I feel paranoid a lot, I seem to disassociate a lot more often than I used to, the frequency of the really bad suicidal episodes has increased, my mood seems erratic. As is the way, one thing solved, another issue rises. I believe moving out again would solve a majority of my issues, but it's difficult to find a place. I will continue my search though. I'm determined to get better.