For the longest time, I thought that my inability to develop an art style, to stick to a subject or theme, or even to an art medium was just because I am easily bored or I lacked the talent.

Turns out there’s more to it than simple boredom or being untalented.

I was actually afraid of failure – of being bad at something, worse than others, so I’d jump from one thing to another before I could discover if I really were or not.

And it appears that this is not a personality trait, it’s OCD.

It’s always been OCD. Every time I was struggling, either with anxiety or with depression, with how my skin felt or being full of rage, it was actually because of OCD. It’s great I finally know that and have something to blame my bad moods on. It’s even greater to have an official diagnosis and be able to get help.

I’m no longer depressed, although I’m still a bit anxious, I don’t struggle with existing anymore although I often wish I never existed to begin with, but not in the sad ‘want to kill myself’ way, just in the ‘I wish my parents were happy with just 3 kids’ way (I was the 4th).

A few years ago, 5 to be exact, I deleted everything on my hard drive by mistake. I recovered what I could but most of my projects’ raw files and edits are gone, and along with them, I feel like I lost a piece of myself.

Am I still an artist without my art?

Ever since, it’s been hard to take the camera in my hands and hope for a good shot. I’m never happy with the pictures I take, especially after I edit them and it feels like all their potential is gone.

My OCD expects perfection within the first try and it’s been hard to give myself some leeway.

Yet, I’m still hoping that with my treatment, things will improve.

In the meantime, I will share my failures. I’ll call it art despite it not being up to personal standards. And in spite of my OCD.