Months and months…

It’s a little sketch. A sketch that would be 20 minutes of work to the old Chrispy, while at a convention, drawn as I talked to a client about their idea, so they could approve the thumbnail and be confident they’d get what they wanted.

Folks, this little sketch took *months* to reach. Because - say it with me, like the chorus of the worst song - “It’s. THAT. Baaaaad!”

Last time I made sketches, seen in the prior Patreon post, someone asked for a commission and I said it’d be a few weeks off before I could even try to sketch again, much less reach a final. (It would’ve been more a gift to a friend, and a tip jar after deal. I have no confidence in myself to charge for work. It’s pity and charity all the way!)

I was almost right: After the off period, needed while my med plan reset, I had a miracle PT session, and was without pain! Like, FIRST TIME IN SIX YEARS pain-free! (You’ll hear about what happened then below!) That is, of course, when American healthcare’s infrastructure collapsed, my treatment lapsed so long even my great window couldn’t hold out, and my predicted two week break became a checkin with the guy two months and two weeks later. Cuz it took that long for the med plan to reset to where it was supposed to be. And then it’s MORE waiting to slowly undo the damage caused in the two lost months. I kept believing I could simply pick up where I left off when my plan was fixed, but NOPE. The standard is it takes three steady months to undo a major trauma. We’re on month two now.

My ambition is definitely starting to return, tho my body still lags behind. I never forget all I owe people - which makes my inability to follow through that much scarier, cuz that would indicate I’m constantly near death, and, uh… try not to think about that - and I spend a lot of my forced downtime doing the untreated ADD deal of playing out an art project step by step in my mind, so I can do it all in one mindless “virtual muscle memory” autopilot burst, since a single disruption would end my production attempt!

Usually the result is burning out before I start, because I’ve been useless so long I use all available energy FINDING MY SUPPLIES and prepping the workspace to start. Then the whole extended process of dodging a pile of disability begins anew. I have to cling to the memory that I was once a daily cartoonist known for reliability, because my efforts to start working have taken me to Extreme ADD Meltdown highlight (lowlight?) reels.

Recently I found myself in my bathroom, sitting on the floor, with the shower running, fully clothed, reading the back of a toothpaste box, as an electric kettle was going, with instant oatmeal to the side. That’s every step of getting ready for the day all mashed together, out of order, and actively countering the other steps! And it was friggin 2pm at the time. I had started getting ready when I planned to run errands I had scheduled for 9am. You have to laugh, but also… yikes. (So all those “I’m a little ADD” types - it’s a dumb sounding disorder, but here’s your example of how life-ruining it is when uncontrolled on someone who has no defenses due to other overwhelming disabilities!)

At the end of the year of course I feel the pressure. My life was dealt a potentially fatal blow in November 2022, when doctors majorly screwed me over, and sabotaged a plan that was working because of their mistake. (But they couldn’t admit to a mistake, for liability and BEING DANGEROUSLY INSANE reasons, so the doc instead threatened to falsify documents and murder me if I reported his crimes. Wheeee.) It took 6 months until a NEW doctor finally started the fix, and - cuz #ChrispyLuck - it was one week too late.

If you need the recap: I had put off a dental procedure until the doctor error was fixed, never thinking it’d take so long, and finally had to buckle and get the fix done because the LAST time I put off a dental procedure for 6 months MY TOOTH EXPLODED A WEEK BEFORE THE APPOINTMENT and that marked the start of six years of doctor debacles that allllll led back to that one appointment. (And, yup, THIS is how the previous “I’m pain free! All we have to do is stay the course and I’ll recover!” moment went. Again… #ChrispyLuck)

Three month recovery time. And then a scheduling error got me a backup neurologist who wasn’t allowed to do my Botox injections in the same way my regular guy did, with disastrous results! And then we’re back to the almost there and infrastructure fail we started this post with!

All through this I hope and I plan and I try. That I had no sketches to share is, once again, DAMNING. The Aaron and Nate scribble below is the very best I had among all the months and attempts; and, while it’s cute, it would be considered too loose for sharing unless I was at rock bottom. (Oh, hey!) So I’m waiting for the window, and trying to be ready with projects in mind so I can jump right in the second the gate opens for me.

What you see in the top image is one of a half dozen “pending” projects stuck in my brain’s active memory. But this one got pushed to the front, because it’s meant to be a Chrispmas gift, and it should be delivered on Thursday. Apparently my friend’s young son was scared of ghosts, but when he learned out Ghostbusters was a thing, it gave him a lot of confidence. Someone can defeat any ghosts! And they ain’t afraid! I HAD to make him a Ghostbuster and certify he never has to be anxious again!

The sketch you see represents a MONTH of me desperately trying to force the project forward, and my body or brain holding me back each time…

First the plan was to draw a stylized portrait, to frame and hang on the wall. (I realized after the above first try that drawing a ghost sneaking up on him was a TERRIBLE idea, considering. The version in the top image is a filler sketch for what would be the back of the ID that has his name and any joke stats I’d want to add.) Then there was a tangent with my niece and HER Chrispmas gift. She wanted an Umbreon card or a keychain, because those two things are allowed with her school’s “no toys” rule. Everyone in her class has LOTS of keychains, and shows off Pokemon cards, despite none of them playing the actual card game. Uncle Chrispy was on the job! And I succeeded! I found a gift box that had Pokémon booster packs and a guaranteed Umbreon!

It was perfect, and my bro bought me a rotom (my fav!) plush as MY Chrispmas gifts as thanks. Score!

Today I got to see the results, with a video where she excitedly cheered over the Umbreon card she so desired. That was a great feeling. Except for one issue:

I USED TO DRAW POKÉMON TRADING CARDS REGULARLY! I have been so out of whack, and so far away from progress on everything, it never occurred to me, until the gift was delivered, that I should have drawn a custom card for her. That’s HUMILIATING! I made trading cards for conventions! I used to have fun drawing badges for people! It means they trusted me and my shoddy style to portray their character! Great for self-esteem!

Wait… badges. I have supplies to make badges. I don’t have to draw a portrait of ghost busting. I can made him a badge that deputizes him into the busting ranks!

And that’s where I am now with it. I’ll probably not finish in time, as executive dysfunction keep blocking me no matter the angle I take to get to the drawing table, but there’s a vision in my head I draw a dozen times a day in daydreams, waiting for my body to drop the pain level enough for my to focus.

And there’s one little tidbit that gives me a lot of hope, even tho the last 13 months have been nothing but horrible loss, with me failing every attempt to be me again: As hinted above, I’m a complete brainless mess, and it gets worse the more I TRY to focus. I had traced a blank badge onto a sketchbook for me to work out ideas before I dove in for a final. What you see at the top of this post is not that sketchbook. My brain decided I had to try NOW and I made a sketch in the wrong spot. That’s pretty bad, and makes even this level of work a sign of how badly I’m losing to my broken body and brain. Buuuuut… when I was hating on myself for not using the templates, I noticed something. I sketched the badge idea as 3”x4” - the size of a badge - EXACTLY. The old artist Chrispy is still in there, and still remembers the canvas sizes he worked on. So let’s hope month 3 finally doesn’t have a major disaster and I can FINISH an idea, instead of existing where my biggest victory is publishing a deranged ramble written in a fugue state.