My life is so weird lately. It's a chaotic dance of ups and downs. I guess it's just a reflection of how I am with my moods.
Today I get to paint. Which I'm hoping will ease some of my internal pain. Doing artwork usually does. But yet, I fear that, left alone with my thoughts to wander while my paintbrush glides across a piece of pottery, where will the thoughts go? Can I hold in the tears that want to flow out? Painting allows the mind to travel anywhere it wants to go.
I guess I'm hoping I can block things out of my mind. If just for one day. I hope too for wellness, as I have been sick so much on and off for quite a while.
I will think on peaceful things. I will remember that I have some wonderful people in my life that bring me joy and comfort. I will try for once, not to worry. Because I know that worrying accomplishes very little.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
I used to have a blog. A blog where I wrote out my feelings and thoughts for the world to see.
I then had a bad bout of depression a few years ago so I deleted it. I deleted it because I thought I was going to kill myself. Is this too personal? I dont' know. All I know is that I just don't really care what people think. I do care.. too much, in reality. But I don't want to. So I will fake myself out and say that I just don't care. I want to write out what is inside of me. It may not all be nice. It's not all flowers and sunshine all the time. I just want to be real. I'm a Christian.. but I swear.. I don't act perfect.. I never will. No one can ever be perfect. I know a lot of uppity people who will look down on me for what I write here. But if I reach anyone else out there that may feel like me, it's worth the risk. To help another hurting soul is more important than trying to impress people that aren't even worth impressing.
I want to be able to pull myself out of my own mind. My mind is filled with insults and fears. I want it all to go away. I want to be like everyone else and not feel everything so intensely. I hate internal pain. I have a mental disorder. What does it do to me? Well, I don't here voices. I don't hallucinate. I just feel. I feel everything SO intensely. Sometimes it is heaven. Other times it is hell.
Imagine how you would feel if someone punched you lightly in the arm... It may hurt a bit.. but not much. That same punch, to me, is like a knife that slices through my arm. The pain is excrutiating. This is what my mental disorder is about. Most people can look past insults. Or at least they can fake it like it doesn't mean much. People like me, we have to feel the pain.. I can't look past my emotions. I can't put a fake smile on my face when I'm sad. I have to be real. I have to feel, even when I don't want to.
I think of all these things, and yet, I do feel like these pains are what make me an artist. Without my pain, I would not be me.
But is it such a great thing... being me? I'm not sure.
Sometimes I like who I am. I am kind, sweet, caring, deep, funny, compassionate, and very generous. But at this moment, I'm not feeling that. I'm feeling the sad. I'm judging myself.. and it hurts.