SUNDRIP – Art for Life is a site that expresses in every media possible an intimate look into the life of a person living with major trauma. The issues addressed in art and writing include Dissociative Identity Disorder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Lupus and CRSD. Despite these issues, I intend to move forward, through and out with honor, grace and creativity.
Anxiety has been rather high as neighbors try me…. My paint brushes fly in an embarrassing flurry. My heart is troubled. I remember I have coping skills. I have friends and I have anger enough to propel me forward one more step, one more day.
Joe is a guardian cat. A watching feline. A gentle whiskered friend whom I adore. It’s just that sometimes the psychosis pushes me away from him a little, away from people a little. I want to isolate.
I have to force myself to accept this new mental weirdness and fear. I wear paranoia. I’m dripping in it. I only know to fill my cup and clean my paint brushes. Art it out!
Covid-19 handed me a fever high enough to leave permanent hallucinations and damage, for which I feel shame. But my cat Joe still finds me palatable to love and be seen cuddling, openly. His love gives me a little more strength to keep going.
What goes in your cup of trials and stress to dilute it so you can do one more day ? 🙂
Finishing “Awake” took much effort but it is here, reworked, beaming with color and striking details.
Bellow are my comments.
I woke to a new existence somewhere unknown, they called it a stroke. Now words come like slow snails, or they are kidnapped so as not to form on my chapped lips.
I painted the emotional roller-coaster I felt as I played tug of war with my body, emotions, speech and interpersonal relationships. Ultimately I felt lost, defeated and misunderstood. I also thought I’d never paint again.
Grueling therapy and persistence with paint brushes helped me get to the point where I can say I’m awake. I’m awake to what has happened and the I’m happy the hardest part of it is behind me. Awake is about surviving the body after stroke and making it my new home.
You will find more images and a short video on Etsy. I also accept PayPal.
Thank you for letting me talk. Thank you for visiting SUNDRIP Art for Life.
A nurse came out to assess me for continued in home nursing. I asked about the difficulties I have with speech but not with reading. She said my speech and memory issues are related to the stroke.
For example, say I may want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I’ll get the bread and peanut butter, however I will ask the nurse to get the jelly. I can see the jar in my head but the word won’t come out for anything. But if the jar is turned around with the label facing me then I can read it and say “may I have the jelly please”. Otherwise we could be sitting there for three weeks with me trying to get the word jelly out of my mouth. I can picture the object in my head but it’s as if the word is trapped.
I’m not accustomed to being believed. It was hard to admit how often it happens.
The nurse said this is related to the stroke. I thought I was just growing stupid with age. As it turns out, it’s not stupidity at all, but a symptom of something else.
Sometimes the words used to describe myself are a bit harsh.
When in bed, only in bed, primarily on my right side, heavier at the feet and head, my body jerks really hard, like really hard. Hard enough to wake me. I have a semi electric hospital bed, noise thing. I jerked really hard, slammed on the bed frame and woke the neighbor directly above me. We have paper thin walls, but still. Not sure if the doc is going to take that seriously or if it’s going to get brushed aside like many things appear to. I know when I lie down I’m going to have to deal with the hard jerking around. It seems to have increased lately. Interesting.
I wonder if my cat hates my job every bit as much as I hated my mother’s profession? How many times have I said to Joe Schmoe, “Here I come?” but made him wait a long time in dead silence? How many times have I sworn to take a break? “Really, here I come.” Sometimes he looks lonely. I worry he feels ignored just like I did.
Instead of papers and pencils it’s paint brushes and canvas.
I enjoy brushing Joe and chatting at him. The aides adore him and take over loving on him; and I let them. When they leave it goes back to being me and him in silence.
He’s sleeping in bed with me again. He sleeps by my head, curled up, back to me, in silence. It’s always so quiet in here.
I’m at the table, back to Joe. Right now I can only hear the trickle of the waterfall in the Betta tank. Ah, but what is this? Joe has turned the tide? He came to sit beside me and break being apart in silence. He kissed my hand and lay beside me. I’ve got to go. There’s no way I can do anything but spend a few moments with him just as he is asking.
My heart is smiling. The day has been given a great gift.
I screamed myself awake, and possibly my neighbors, around 6 this morning. I don’t exactly remember the dream. I just remember it was horrible and I was terrified. I was kicking and screaming. But I didn’t catch it on camera because my camera wasn’t set up. I hate that.
I wish I had caught that on camera so I can see what I was doing before and what I was doing after. I would like to have seen Joe’s reaction. After much struggling I finally had the camera set up so we’ll see how tonight goes.
Today has been really difficult. I have been scattered brained. I’ve messed up just about everything I’ve touched; everything I touched broke today so I’m pretty annoyed.
It’s just one of those days so I decided to list things that are good in my life. I listed five things that are blessings in my life because if not then it was just going to be an overwhelming day of sadness that seemed all for nothing. So I did, I came up with five things. I’m happy I was able to pause and go , okay listen, endurance is for a reason. It’s not to see who can suffer a long time, endurance has a purpose for the issues. That purpose is what I’m fighting for.
Here is a plant corner in my studio apartment that I enjoy.
Joe has been put on a different food by the vet. He’s been taken off his meds and he’s doing very well. His skin looks sooo much better. The boy’s actually kinda got an attitude now. He’s still Super Service Cat like no other but wow is he mouthy. 🙂
I’m down to two breathing treatments a day. My lungs still hurt very much from whatever chemical was in my apartment. I was in the hospital twice over it. Yuck. That’s part of the, “endurance is for a purpose” entry.
Lastly, I missed my OCD meds for a week. Life is hard right now. Prior Authorization and such took a bit. I finally got them after a full week. I can feel the difference. It hurts.
I take pen to paper and near violently sketch, in order to manage obsessive thoughts and counting. The Etsy painting expresses anxiety building that I needed to manage.
I paint what’s swirling in my head, marching, counting or popping. Art helps manage the symptoms and situation.
When focused, I’ll express how I feel in bright colors next to black lines, and upside down flowers without uttering a single word.
This painting is 5.5×8.5 inches on watercolor paper, unmounted, signed, sealed
“The Crooked Tea Cup” – Arrows direct the path I should take; paranoia is her guide.
Today part of me just mourned the loss of the old CNA that I really liked, the one who said I’m not disabled. It was short lived. I’d rather go without the toxicity thank you very much!!!
This head is tired.
I spoke with the owner who reassured me that she’s looking for a quality aide for me, not just anyone.
I’ve bombed on the meet and greet twice bc I gave too much info about OCD and scared qualified candidates; one I didn’t much like but would have worked with, the second I really, really like. Can I get a do over?
This whole one shot thing is horrible! You get one short interview with a person to see if you can work with them.
I’ve forgotten how the regular employed world works. You go to interviews, sell yourself in an hour then leave. One shot! Gracious! Oh my brain.
I’m trying to get it right, trying to do everything right. Why can’t I get it right?
Today I had to remind myself of my self worth because it recently tanked. I don’t assign my self worth, God does. He loved everyone enough to allow his son as ransom, including me. So get up Faith, shake the dirt off your shoulders.. and roll on. You got this.
I intended to keep the colors brighter like always, shockingly bright, but this time darker colors felt right.
The rainbow was given a darker red and a mustard yellow stripe in a midnight blue sky. The clothing of the figures is in plum, dark red, green and blue.
As I worked I realized the high amount of frustration and anger associated with feeling like a freak; feeling broken if not shatteted. Line after line I drew myself shatteted for the last time! I will not do it again.
I felt so hidden behind the lines, even hidden from myself. I’ve described being a multiple like looking into carnival mirrors. It’s hard to know who is who. Well, I may not always know the who but I do know The Way.
I need hope too. I don’t feel hopeless but sometimes I feel like I’m in prison here. I wish I could leave. This isn’t my home anymore. However, I can’t just up and go in the middle of the night – won’t up and go like that. I’ll move somewhere safe, clean. One thing is for sure, there’s no more peace here.
The painting will be in the shop very soon. Check my Etsy.