One of my few comforts... (Patreon)

I started drafting out the first 192 pages of the comic / manga. I'm inclined to call it a manga because it's so heavily influenced by Japanese art, but it's spiritually very Western / European. I'm heavily inspired by Daniel Mackler, who grew up in America, and Alice Miller, who was born in Poland and grew up in Switzerland, and I'm inspired by various philosophers from the Western world. Which is very much like manga.Many Japanese authors are heavily inspired by works from the West / Europe. Yoshiyuki Tomino, creator of Mobile Suit Gundam, references Freud. The anime Monster is also very reminiscent of Alice Miller's work. I think of the quote "In therapy, the small and lonely child that is hidden behind her achievements wakes up and asks: “What would have happened if I had appeared before you sad, needy, angry, furious? Where would your love have been then? And I was all these things as well. Does this mean that it was not really me you loved, but only what I pretended to be? The well-behaved, reliable, empathic, understanding, and convenient child, who in fact was never a child at all? What became of my childhood? Have I not been cheated out of it? I can never return to it. I can never make up for it. From the beginning I have been a little adult. My abilities—were they simply misused?" [Spoilers for Monster] It took me a long time to understand the ending of the anime, but I believe that question is what Johan sought an answer to throughout the entire story. Through his destructive neediness and desperation, Johan essentially asks "Would you still value my life if I became a monster?" Dr. Tenma answers it with love from the beginning to the end. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁I've decided to try a formatting similar to the manga Witch Hat Atelier because I wanted to practice setting things up for print; I would like to publish SWFTD and see it in bookstores someday. I'm trying to figure out how I want to do the images, but I think keeping it simpler would make it manageable since I'm confident the story will take center stage. I'd like the art to be in service of the emotions I'm trying to convey. Color adds so much more labor to the production, it makes it impossible for me to get out in a timely manner without compromising my health and outsourcing, which I DO NOT want to do. I'm already struggling with my health and chronic pain. It's also a very personal story and only I can deliver my true pathos.The heavy story behind this image...I got the idea to do a page about Ellie using food to emotionally regulate after reading the manga My Twisted Eating Disorder. I saw it at the book store and I didn't think it was something I'd be interested in, but it seemed like an unusual type of book from a Japanese author. They are usually very private about their personal lives. I've been wanting to read books made by artists that are transparent about their struggles, and this turned out to be a perfect pick for me. I got quite emotional at times while reading it, even though my problems with food are very different than Nagata Kabi's relationship with food.I used to blame myself a lot for how dependent I became on food, but I realized, like Nagata Kabi, that it is related to how we were treated growing up. My mother used to force feed me using her hand as a utensil, and I got used to it being the few moments I had with her where she seemingly showed me affection. I recently decided to look at old photographs of my childhood and remembered some disturbing memories, which helped to further explain my abandonment issues. I found a photo of a peculiar man standing with my family.After my father left and started a new family, my mother dated a white man that lived in the neighborhood. After school, when I was around the age of 7 or 8, she told me to walk to his house and wait there until she picked me up after work. I didn't know him very well, and I assume my mother didn't either because whenever I asked her about him, she only said that she liked how he treated her to dinner and bought her flowers. She also didn't speak English that well (not enough to deeply connect with a native speaker), so I believe I had more time to observe him than my mother did, considering how much she worked.I still remember where his house is located, what it looked like, the layout, how messy it was; it kind of stunk from cat litter, the smell of old books piled against the walls, and a dirty, musty carpet. I also recall some of his special interests. He was interested in Japanese culture. He gave my sibling a replica of a samurai sword and he gave me a t-shirt with a samurai on it, which at the time, I thought was super cool. Though I remember feeling jealous and wanting a sword as well.When I would arrive at his house, this man fed me and then left me in the living room with his cat so he could retreat to his bedroom. I don't remember speaking to him much. He kept his distance from me, and I realize now how vulnerable I was. I'm certain he was mentally unstable, especially given the track record my mother has with men. My father, step fathers, and the boyfriends I met had histories of being abused and abandoned. There are 3 memories that stand out to me. One time, I called this man a cheapskate because he bought something from the thrift store as a gift for my mother, and he reacted really poorly to that. I was just a kid so I'm not sure how I knew what that meant, maybe my mother had called him that behind his back since he would sometimes buy her wilted flowers on clearance.My 2nd memory was about a gift. He accidentally bought me the same CD that my cousin got me for Christmas and for some reason, I got really mad at him. It also seemed to deeply upset him. People might call me a brat or a demon child, but I was 7 or 8 at the oldest and I was already getting beaten, humiliated, sexually violated, and screamed at by my mother; I was still trying to cope with the rejection of my father, and I was left in isolation for long periods of time. I struggled socially and was angry as a kid, and it didn't help that my mother just dumped me onto this random guy. As an adult now, I would be a bit bothered if a kid wasn't grateful for a gift, but I would not be deeply upset over a child having a tantrum, so his reaction seems odd to me now. His feelings towards me were so apparent, I remember feeling ashamed that I may have caused him to break up with my mother.The 3rd memory was the last time I saw him after he and my mother split. I walked by his house with a neighbor's kid (who also knew him because she played at his house sometimes with me), and saw him wearing a dark black wig, pretending to be someone else. I said hi ___, and he responded frantically like he had just been exposed "___? Who's ___? I don't know who that is!" Before running back inside his house. I remember we thought it was really weird. That combined with him being a hoarder and a shut in made me realize how concerning the situation was, despite it already being a bad idea to let a man you barely know babysit your 7-8 year old daughter.I'm confident he didn't do anything bad to me because I vividly remember all the bad things my mother and other adults did to me (I'll get into that some other time), so I'm extremely glad for that. I have enough psychological and emotional issues as it is, but it's one of the many things that disturbs me about my childhood. My anxiety and fear of abandonment is why I have such a precarious relationship with food. Eating seemed to be the only time people paid much attention to me as a child, and this continued into adulthood. Family and friends only wanted to spend time with me if I paid for their food. I've since stopped doing that and instead treat myself to nice meals.