Nutphant Comics

Mom has no idea I'm schizotypal. When I was a kid she gathered us all up and yelled at us about her own mother. My sister was being bullied which is why she yelled at us. Like it was my sister's fault for being bullied. She told us tales about her mother. My grandma. Grandma talked to tapes and televisions. She walked around the town naked. She couldn't take care of herself. My mom yelled that it's no wonder if we are crazy too. I was around 8 at the time but I remember that night quite well. It was tiring.

I was a kid when my mother told me how she cheated on my father A LOT. Like, she even said she cheated on him on the wedding night. Anyway. There was this one blonde guy she slept with 20+ years ago. 9 months later, BAM! I was born. The only blonde in the family. Who knows if my father is my dad or this random dude is my dad. It would be interesting to know though. As I said, I'm the only blonde in the family. When I was 16 it became apparent my mother disliked my hair. She told me I need to change it somehow because it's so boring and dull. It has no colour at all. My already low self esteem crumbled. I mean, aren't mothers supposed to think their kids are beautiful? Not my mother. She had told me once I'm beautiful and that was when I was crying and she ordered me to keep on crying more so she could get a picture. Might draw about that later. Last fall I finally got my own colour back after years and years of dyeing it. And it's not that bad. I really feared tha...

Because of my depression I feel just empty inside. Dead. I often can't see the beauty that's around me. Or the beauty of living. I just feel so heavy and tired all the time. Like there's invisible weights on my body and there's a curtain between me and the world. I feel disconnected. But there are times I feel alive. Really very much alive. I embrace those moments. And I wish I could get up from this deep hole that is depression. In my city there are a few eskers here. On top of one of them is a place with some large rocks. Sometimes I like to go there and just sit on one of the rocks and look up to the sky. It's beautiful. And the view is great too. When it's nighttime you can see some of the city lights. I really like it. I love when it's dark because you can see the lights. But I'm scared of darkness. I'm paranoid someone's gonna do something bad to me. In this comic I have my hair coloured hence the blue colour vs my natural blonde. I re...

Sometimes when I'm home just doing my stuff and I hear my one of my neighbours laugh I'm sure they're somehow watching me and laughing at me. They've installed cameras or drilled tiny holes into the walls and are watching me. I'm not safe at my own house. They're laughing and giggling at me, pointing fingers and talking shit. I have no choice but to hide.

When I was still off my medication I would be paranoid and delusional very often. If I was watching TV and I heard a noise from my neighbours I was sure they were trying to signal me to keep quiet and close the TV. I never watched the TV very loud because I was scared. I was also too scared to listen to music. I would start hearing banging from the walls. In my mind people were angry at me for being too loud. But I was simply delusional. Nowadays I take my meds every day and I don't feel so paranoid. I'm on Abilify currently. 

My first comic here is about my past! Our house had gotten super filthy after my father left. No-one took the dog out so there was dog shit and piss everywhere and piles of newspapers covering them. And new layers of piss and shit. And another layer of newspapers. But that's a story and comic for another time. You couldn't see the floor in our rooms. It was like a hoarder's house. My room was full of dirty clothes, toys, food, dishes, trash and books. I slept on the "floor" because beetles kept falling from the ceiling into my bed. And then I kind of got used to sleeping on the floor. My room was full of beetles and their larvae. Hundreds of them. You could see them everywhere. Crawling over my clothes, chewing holes into them. In my toys. Between the pages of my schoolbooks. In my hair. I slept in the middle of them. I got used to having beetles and larvae all over and around me. In some twisted way they kind of became my friends. I wished then good night eve...

Let's start this thing. I'm a young lady who suffers from depression, anxiety and schizotypal disorder. I will be publishing comics about my life. This is sort of a therapeutic project for me. My short history: I come from a poor family and my childhood had abuse and neglect in it. My mother is a narcissist bitch and my father was quite absent. Well, I can't be sure if she is narcissist or not really but it sure feels like it. Anyway. I got depressed at a young age and was planning my suicide at 13 years old. I also had an eating disorder from 11-22 yo. I moved to live on my own at 16 and I stumbled into an abusive relationship at 17. I was coerced and forced to have sex, I was slapped, my bruises got poked at, I got called fat, I was ignored. By the age of 18 I was getting more and more paranoid. I had hallucinations and delusions. I tried to kill myself. My life always seemed to get darker and darker. I cut myself and hit myself. I planned to many ways to kill myself...