Any pronouns . 26 . Constantly needs coffee
I mostly draw fantasy and sci-fi content.
Digital art, on computer. Wacom graphic tablet. Software: Clip Studio Paint.
Hobbyist, never studied art, I just like to draw. Find more artworks in my links.
Click a picture for full credit
Prepare to dive into a world of fantasy and scifi with a tint of realism. What will seduce you more between the brave and bold Yevatem, the calm and respected Velilyevatem, the strong and conquerors Varveleilem, or the undefeated and feared Oyevatem? Perhaps you'll prefer to browse their fully developped language, their society, their pets and mounts, or their touching story?
Dive into a world populated by indigenous creatures living among the remains and ruins of their deified ancestors, and hear what they have to say.
Click on the next links to fully discover them:
I have a shitty health
Just read if you're curious to know why everything is slow with me
I was born with a genetic and rare disease. The type that makes the doctors ask "can you repeat the name of it?"By choice, I refused to talk about it on the net for the most entirety of my online presence. I will also not name it here. If you're really curious, I'm sure you can find the name of it on the net with some researches, but I'll state the most frequent symptoms here anyway.
There are several reasons for my silence about it.I am ashamed of my disease. It's a handicap, and makes me weak. I can't do most hobbies, and I'm a problem when we have to go somewhere. I feel like I'm always a problem, and a stupid person. And I cost to the society. Years ago I suffered from depression, convinced that my life wasn't worth it, and that I woudn't bring anything positive to this world.
I saw many people suffering from disabilities online and bearing it as a pride, clearly stating what they suffer from without the fear of being judged for it. They are the people who made me write this text today, because I admire them, and their strength.I suffered physically and mentally from this disease, and it also ruined my life on many levels. Because of it, I have been judged, even insulted many times. Before the diagnosis, members of my own family thought that I was faking (especially for chronic muscular and joint pain.) After all, no young person is supposed to feel pain somewhere every day, so I must have wanted to attract attention and nothing else, right? School is cruel and so are people when they don't know. I was an awful student, I have been denied the right to have a driver licence, I'm thrown away from most jobs, and some people even avoid me IRL because they know I'll be a problem. After all, you can't have fun with me around.The symptoms of it are physical, mental and cognitive.Physically, my connective tissues system is fucked up. It constitutes 80% of the human body. The most visible symptoms are: hypermobility, chronic (daily) pain in muscles and joints, chronic fatigue, easy and frequent dislocations, fragile skin and body and very complicated healing, resistance to anesthesia (I feel everything, pain included, when I'm operated), easy to lose blood and bleeds a lot, abnormal temperature variations, shaking, "numb members", pseudo-paralysis (mostly legs), bad proprioception (if I close my eyes, I fall, because I can't feel where my body is. And yes, I also often miss my mouth when I eat. Don't laugh!) and more.
When you look at me, it'll mostly be visible with the fact that I need a lot of help to walk and to stand. I have braces and crutches for short walks, and a wheelchair for long ones.Mentally, it looks like this:
Short memory (a shitty one, let's say it), short attention span, focus and orientation disorders, heavy stress and anxiety (sometimes for no apparent reason), "brain fog" (suddenly I'm not here anymore).
These are due to the fact that my body is so naturaly broken that the oxygen has trouble to fully reach my brain. Makes me slow to think, and makes me feel dumb most of time.
"The most common type of [x], called [x], has been linked to various conditions that affect the brain and the central nervous system."
"[...] may cause problems with brain or spine development when weak connective tissue leads to damage or malformation of nerve cells."And for the cognitive symptoms:
Hyperacusis (hyper sensitivity to sounds), dyslexia, pseudo-epilepsy (it's epilepsy but with different triggers than usual), and hyper sensitivity to light in general (I'm a vampire.)
It also augments the risks of brain aneurysms, and I suffered from one at 19 (thankfully without too much damages.)Oh, I forgot this detail because it's not really a problem, but the tip of my heart is constantly leaking, bleeding. If I was goth I'd definitly use the x-rays of it to show-off ahah. Thankfully it doesn't endanger my life. But some people with the same disease have a weaker heart and die very young. My biggest hopes about that are that my niece and my nephew (both still very young) don't suffer from the same disease (it can take years for a doctor to spot the disease, especially at a young age since it only gets worse with age, and we're still in the process.)All these symptoms turned my life into a personal hell, especially when I was a teenager. I wasn't diagnosed yet and the only answer to why I was worse than the others in every domain was: I'm just lame and lazy.
I grew up believing that I was lame and lazy. Lame and lazy. Yet I was doing twice the normal efforts than anyone else to try to maintain an average level in everything. But the disease eventually got worse and - after years of medical wandering - I finally received the diagnosis. It relieved me. It meant that I wasn't lame and lazy - at least not for what I thought I was. I stopped hating myself like I used to.I was born with the disease and my lifespan is shorter than average. There's nothing to heal it, and even painkillers don't work. I'm also allergic to most hormones-changer (also because of the disease) so I can't take many things for my anxiety. (RIP, ô sweet serotonine.) "Natural" options are as effective as anesthesia - meaning that they're not - and I think that I've tried everything that exists to relieve pain, in vain. Not even morphin or stronger painkillers work, it's almost a superpower at this point ahah. Pain and fatigue is my daily life, and the disease is known to only get worse with years passing. Nothing can heal it, nothing can soothe it. But at least, my life isn't directly endangered, and I thank everything in the existence for that.Now I'm older and I learnt to laugh about it. I've also learnt to be happy, in spite of everything (: I had the chance to find a loving partner who accepts me with the disease, and amazing friends who laugh about it with me and who don't mind searching if a place is accessible for disabled people before going somewhere.Online, it also explains many things: why am I so slow to answer and to draw, why do I tend to stress quickly over new situations, why I may write weird answers or seem not to have understand properly what you just said, why I sometimes might sound weird. Things like this.
I know I've hurt people online. (Some hurt me too.) Sometimes by accident, sometimes because I was scared of them. Sometimes because the pain was so intense and didn't leave me for days that it turned me crazy. I know the disease is no excuse. I'm doing my best everyday, trying to heal from what I can heal, trying to take distance when the pain is too strong and I know I'm reaching my mental limit. Seeing doctors and a therapist frequently, practicing every (damn) day re-education. (That also takes a lot of my free time.) Taking whatever medicine doesn't kill me first. I'm doing my best. And it's often not enough. That's paradoxically why I couldn't find the strength to talk about the disease before. I'm ashamed. I am.
Even now that I know I'm disabled, my very core wishes to reach an average level and to be "like everybody," but I can't, and most of time I'm ashamed. I know I shouldn't. I guess the education I received has engraved this inside of me. Writing this here is part of the proccess of accepting it.If you read all of it, thank you for your time. It's the first time I publicy open my heart about this. Maybe I'll delete this text out of shame at some point. Please keep being proud of your disabilties, make a strength out of it, inspire me! And if you don't have any, be simply thankful for the life you have, because every life is a miracle. You are a miracle!
Yes, even if you made me stress more than you have should, even if you traumatized me, even if we argued, even if we hate eachother, even if you pretended to know me yet you never heard of this disease before, even if we never spoke before. Disabled or not, no matter your skin color, the place you come from, your gender or sexuality, your pains or hapiness, you're all miracles.Finally: Please, do not contact me to speak about my disease, even if you think you guessed the name of it. (Unless you have the same disease, it's rare but we never know, after all. In that case I'd love to exchange life tips with you!!)
I hate to speak about it. I speak about it with every damn person I meet IRL, because they all ask me why do I have crutches - and I'd love if internet can remain the place where my disability is (almost) invisible.
Please contact me to tell me how nice is life instead, to ask me something about my art or universes, to show me your latest YVVO artwork, and to share the love, ok? You'll make my day ~
(yes, it's me)
(and boy, do I look tired)