Tragical self-pitying bore...

(Subject refers to the post, not to anyone mentioned in the post!)

No updates about anything, everything's still the same (went from bad to worse exactly a week before Xmas, but I'm working on getting my OCD sorted out - will see my therapist on Fri., in fact).

But, I wanted to show off one of the products of my "too-much-free-time"-ness (I've also started up two new fanlistings, made new layouts for others, installed a FAQ database - for more info, I point you to this post in the nifty Sari's journal - because I have WAY too much time on my hands).

I found this excellent tutorial that gives great instructions on how to make a "comic book"-style icon. I had found (this was about twenty minutes ago, actually) a gorgeous wallpaper of teh Peter Cook on the BBC's site, but it was of a horribly poor quality, and made me shake my head in sadness. I thought it might look OK in a smaller size for an icon, but found that wasn't the case (it just looked weird in a smaller size).

I had seen a comic book icon in an icon post this user's LJ, and there was a link to the tutorial that was used to make it. I had a vague notion that the picture would look great with simple, clean lines, and I wanted to try out the comic book technique, so... It worked for me, and thusly, you now see - my new Peter Cook icon. *is happy*

*loves icon*

I have a theory (how one goes from rambling about icons to theories, I have no idea) that all brilliant people are "flawed" in some way. Their minds are always on, and their brains are ultra-creative. For a dim person, an overractive brain doesn't sound like a problem, but it is (I'm not saying I'm brilliant, cos I'm not - but my mind *is* always on, and *is* somewhat ultra-creative). That brilliant mind is also a curse, for whatever reason.

My dad, for example, is a computer genius - among other things! He's a voracious reader, is a math whiz, and is just really sickeningly intelligent. He's also a complete goofball (which seems to go hand-in-hand with brilliance). He has OCD and depression too. Each causes him an equal amount of suffering (not physically, of course, but mentally and emotionally - which some would argue is just as bad, if not worse), but he just pushes on. He's been on so many meds to treat both disorders, but his psych has never hit on a winning combination, so he's never had a really nice stretch of time without symptoms. But he keeps being brilliant, solving problems at work, reading a bazillion books.

I don't know why I'm going on about this, but it goes along with my theory that brilliant people have a tragic aspect to their life. My dad's mind - rich and creative, full of knowledge and the odd useless fact - provides him with his career, but also provides him with suffering. It's not fair. But that's the way things are, I suppose. One must just keep going, which is what my dad does. I'm gonna be corny - sorry! - and just state for the record that my dad is my anti-hero - he doesn't do anything earth-shatteringly important, but he gets through extremely difficult times while still being the best dad ever, and to me, that's danged heroic. (I think "anti-hero" is the right term; it probably isn't, but to call him my "hero" would be terribly cliché. Plus, he's more of the underdog than the hero to me, so I'm guessing that "anti-hero" works. Maybe?)

I've been reading The Complete Peter Cook, an excellent collection of Peter Cook's work that I got for Xmas, and I suppose that that's what brought on my contemplation of brilliance. Peter Cook was exceptionally talented, but tragic too. I like to think of myself as vaguely talented in some areas (I'm only 18; I haven't found my true calling yet! - though I do plan to study to be a history teacher...), like websites/design and such, and I also think I'm probably a bit tragic too. I mean, I've already been through cognitive behavioral therapy once, and my experiences with OCD would probably make a normal person cry. (And I know that everyone has something bad in their lives that's just as tormenting as OCD - I'm not foolish enough to think that everyone else's life is all flowers and bunnies!) I'm not the only person to have dealt with all this, of course, but I *have* dealt with a lot. I identify with that "brilliant but tragic" thing in Peter Cook and others (but I continue to stress that I'm hardly brilliant and that things could probably be worse). It helps you to get through the day, really, to think that other people who've had difficult lives have been able to keep going, to be successful, whatever. I sound so pretentious right now that I may slap myself around the head once I post this. I don't mean to sound so high-falutin', honest - I'm just sort of writing to feel a bit better about stuff. It gives one a sense of accomplishment - hey, I'm not doing well with my OCD, but at least I can still write somewhat coherently!

Well, that's all.

Cheery bye, Scarlett


Listening to: Too Much Of A Good Thing [Original 12" Mix] (Kylie Minogue)