My Own Language

Ever since I can remember, I have had a hard time communicating my thoughts and feelings. It’s not that I don’t know what I’m thinking or feeling, it’s just that getting the words to go from my brain to my mouth feels like trying to merge onto a freeway during rush hour and my car will only drive in reverse. I don’t know why I’m like that, I just am. I’ve tried and with a great deal of effort, clear communication has become a kind of a second language to me.

When I was younger, I remember my mom would try and get me to journal back and forth with her just so she could understand what was going on inside my head. It was a good idea, and honestly just knowing that my mom cared enough to try still brings a smile to my face, a lot of kids like me wouldn’t be so lucky.

Writing stuck with me. As a teenager, when I got tired of looking for very specific plot lines to read, I started to make my own stories and found that I could not only allow myself to escape with stories, but also bring others into my head by allowing them to read my stories. My passion through the years has helped me learn how to connect with people, and eventually lead me to pursue a degree in creating film. It became apparent to me a while ago that fewer and fewer people read, but almost everyone loves to watch. In school, they show movies once you're done with the book, teachers show educational videos instead of assigning draining textbook readings. I wanted to be able to share my stories with a larger audience.

It doesn't come with any surprise that breaking into the film industry is a difficult journey, to say the least. I started to become depressed, thinking that none of my ideas would ever be seen by anyone. To find a producer, director, actors, funding, everything felt so far out of reach.

I gave up on anything creative I did in general for a while as I let my anxiety and depression consume me. I had no outlets that felt satisfying and I couldn’t communicate to anyone how sick my mind was becoming. To say I felt alone was an understatement.

Then like a saving grace, I discovered animation. I started with a simple ball bouncing using a free program in my iPad, that changed to stick men motion pictures, then as I discovered how to use layers and tools I jumped into full on cartoon creation.

Now, not only am I writing again, I am visually creating my stories that hopefully people will enjoy. I don’t just animate stories either, I animate what’s inside my head (metaphorically speaking), everything I’m feeling has an image and a flow. Now instead of feeling like I’m trying to merge in reverse, I feel like I’m in a semi, leading a convoy behind me.

I have only been animating for a month and my stress has decreased, I find I’m happier, it’s easier to talk to the people I care about without feeling overwhelmed. Almost as if creating animations is clearing up all the traffic in my mind and letting the words flow just like the images in my frames. I've even found the confidence to start building a portfolio with hopes that one day I can be a professional animator.

Even if that doesn't work out though, I know I'll be fine. I found my preferred language, and more importantly, I've finally found peace.