spliced lily & the need to repeat (pages 31-36)

page 31 - not a fan of lilies or any flowers this shape, but as it appears to be a cross-section, i'm good. plus the coloration is very much to my liking (deep purply-blue makes me so mellow). and i think the background detail came out exactly as i would have planned it to. :)

...then the repetition comes back to me....(page 35)

extreme need for mental order on these days....

  

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page 32 left, 34 right

i haven't felt a compulsion to color these as i do the rest.

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    and page 36...serenity

on to journal # 2

 
These are the first pages of my new journal! 
i'll be referring to it as the tan suede journal because of the faux cover :)   this empty book was begun a lot more easily than the first because i'm rolling on the confidence i collected finishing that one to the last page.

(page 1 & 2 above, 4 & 3 below)

for the first time in a very long time i went to michaels with an exact list: one new journal. and it had a purpose - not just to fill my need to get something at a good price so i could keep it in case i let myself use it in the future...but to be the second volume of my -eh, i'll say it -my subconscious. not one of my pictures has a plan. each comes to life line by line as i draw it in pen, no drafts. funny thing- because i have a severely difficult time making decisions of any kind from day to day  (even choosing which of my old, ratty t-shirts will clothe me). so for me to sit and have no idea what will become of the blank page in front of me is one of the only challenges i can face every day. i may think "mandala", but i have no idea past that.

i did a page similar to this one (page 5) - a cross-section of landscape, in my black spiral journal ( here it is ). it has been more popular than others and i so loved doing it i tried again, so this would be an exception to my "no plan" process. i love the subject matter - nature, trees, dirt, rocks and soil so much i could do this page over and over. i can't say that about any of my other pages before i start them. i can shoot for a general "biological specimen" subject, but that's about it. otherwise i'd have to deal with a commitment - forget that!

page 6

so besides knowing i want - in fact NEED to draw, the process of me sitting in front of a blank page has gotten less scary. i have finally come to the point that i only have the goal to draw, which makes me relax and in a small way block out the crap in my head the only way i can...by drawing detailed and repetitive patterns.

depression. OCD. bipolar-ocity.

it's like this.....

i have everything i need. i have a nice house, an extremely hard-working husband who says he loves me to death, and two amazing, smart and loving children.

i have 2 cats and 2 hamsters that light up my days.

i'm not very healthy but i'm not completely incapable of changing that either.

i consider myself an artist because that is my passion, i want to do nothing else most days, and i think i'm ok at it.

yet i feel uncontrollably sad and hopeless.

i have really neat collections of things i love and tons of old books to absorb, but i don't pay any attention to any of it. no-one else in the world cares. i crave the existence of all of it, NEED to look at it to survive each day, then i think of how much it bothers me that it means nothing to anyone else - because it's what defines me...therefore i am invisible. 

i am so much the same as every other parent out there....homework to help with, a ton of appointments to make and keep, endless cleaning and laundry, piles of things to go through and errands to run, but i resent it all. tiniest responsibilities tie me down and make me want to close my eyes til it's all over.

every day i wake up tired - no, exhausted because all night i have stressful dreams and fight to correct things in them. they are as real to me as day. thoughts never ever stop and just the slightest daily input of a phone call or even the sound of my computer fan can be too much. how badly i wish my OCD was about checking door locks...no, i have thoughts about fights i had years ago, things people say, looks i get....over and over i relive things that took me down as i try to change it all in my head. i know it's self-abusive and i cannot stop it.

"lighten up". "move on". it's disgusting and horrible to be around me so i avoid contact with anyone who might be offended by my ugliness. then i become guilty for being antisocial and worry how my kids will turn out if i become a hermit.

"just go outside, go somewhere!". "make a schedule". very difficult indeed and i don't care. i just don't. i am at my most level when i have no schedule, nothing that has to be done, and nothing to plan or prepare for.

in truth, i would hand it all over in a heartbeat. as much as i adore my kids and know they need me, i feel incapable of giving them what they need...even just time to play. i cringe when i think of them turning out like me, and think that if they were raised by "normal" people (another whole discussion, yes) they might have a chance.

i yearn to live alone. if i never had to see another person i would be happy. i know i would slowly kill myself by overeating and hoarding, but that would be ok. i would be able to do everything i want to- draw all day, eat, collect, watch movies, sit at my virtual world and sleep. i pretend there would be no bills, endless money and someone to do the shopping.

i'm not stupid. i have a degree- in psychology and art therapy! but it doesn't make me at all able to stop the cycles and change any of it.

bipolar cycles are a joy. i can cycle ten times a day or once in several weeks. depends on how much is going on. i'm not as angry as i used to be, so for that i am grateful, very grateful. my bottom is not as deep as it used to be, also great. i don't have the energy for the mania like i did in the past- all good! but levels i have now are still debilitating and can suck the life out of me. 

"you focus to much on yourself". "life is short-just enjoy and appreciate every minute". like i WANT to be like this. i enjoy being so self-absorbed! fact is, i hate most everything about myself so that is not what the reality is.

the reality is that from the moment i wake up (technically....though i struggle all night as well), it takes everything in my power to be "normal"....to not end up in a tailspin....to not end up in bed crying until i can't breathe. or just laying there staring off into my own head. am i depressing you? try living it. people hate how negative and pessimistic i am.... if they could only see what was on the inside of my skull.

i feel better now after writing it all out - again. maybe someone who reads all this can relate. maybe there is a loved one who suffers as well, and more understanding can be had by those who get to watch. if ONE person benefits from reading this, i have done something worthwhile. 

as for me, i'm now exhausted again and need to lie down. i have been trying to get through to any one of 3 new psychiatrists to provide me with prescription maintenance, but not one of them has gotten back to me after almost a week. 

so it goes...

starting journals, hospital

i started doing art in my journals in college, and painting time was the only time i felt sane and in control.  it took me years to realize i needed this consistently. i did projects here and there, and in between was a wreck. i was in and out of therapy, on and off meds (heavy anti-depressants at this point) and basically just trying to get from day to day. i did hold down a job at a group home for autistic adults, which was the most amazing job i could have imagined. these clients were some of the most interesting people i ever met. as i did art with them, i learned how powerful it was as a communication tool. i began doing more for myself, and started a collage journal - cut and paste mostly. if you knew how many hours and days i spent cutting up magazines...it only helped part of my life.  my job was challenging and my life was getting serious.

at some point i gave up, and everything crashed down on me. i took a bunch of meds and ended up in the psych ward for 3 weeks. as i laughed at those aides who tried to coerce me into the craft room to make potholders, i found strips of embroidered ribbons and tassels. i wanted them. so i started a "pillow" of hoarded scraps which got bigger and bigger over the 3 weeks i was there. then i had my boyfriend (now my husband) bring in my journal and magazines and glue, and i was allowed to have scissors under supervision. apparently they hadn't noticed the sculpture i created out of the wire hanger i found in my room (?!). when i had my things in my hands i was strong - i had a place to hide and a means to have authority over my mind. i remember the curiosity and interest my art and supplies triggered..and wide-eyed glares from the social workers and nurses. made me smile....

need art....

need to do something more artistic than my daughter's math project to spend a million dollars...it's a great time capsule for her turning 10 - don't even get me started on how much that just depresses me. my boy will be THREE monday....mostly i feel achy that i will never have that time again...

the desire to smell the newborn-ness, to curl up all day with a tiny baby at my breast...without the possibility of ever having that honor again...the insane exhaustion..... those days of oblivion that never repeat and never end and disappear before you can draw a breath.

i digress (sp?). i haven't done too much for myself lately because of her party, halloween, costume issues, projects, dishes, her impending bronchitis, that boy's insane cuteness that makes me stop in my tracks to stare ....hopeless i am. not much in the way of company or here-ness from the student husband of mine...not happy that we don't have jobs - well, i am working a little, couple hundred a month at most. still, i have to go get the dreaded endoscopy i have been putting off for 9 months- my uncle is fighting strong his stomach cancer - well, a possible misnomer as he no longer has a stomach...and rodney's brother near death's door with liver failure...

but that is tooo depressing for me, and stressful. i want to go home really badly. i miss the boys a lot and emma's friends, and our weedy backyard and fresh air....uuuuugh. i bitched so much about getting away from there and now i want it all back. 

haven't heard from somerset , don't really expect to but people keep asking. i so want to submit to somerset memories, but whatever affliction holds me pretty hostage with exhaustion keeps me from being creative. it seems, and i hope i am reading it wrong, that scrapping has been taking a turn back to the simple times with diecuts and fancy scissors...templates....maybe all the great scrappers got so creative and off the edge stylewise that they all submit to somerset memories, and creating keepsakes and memory makers are seeing fewer submissions....those magazines have become barely thicker than the ads from our local gym!

enough...my reason for getting on today was to vent...i'm struggling and little things are getting to me. but there was a shining moment...a glimmer of happiness....a message...that took me by complete surprise and stole my breath...someone unexpected was thinking of me and that just made everything else go away...if even for a brief moment. now i need to get back to reality...and that million dollar project, and my dishes.