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I wanted you to know, openly, that back in 2005 something terrible happened to my family and I. It was a nightmare that took almost 14 years to live through. It is, however, what made me into the person I am now. I try to live everyday helping someone in some way or another. (1)
Sometimes I get lost. It is a human thing to do. In my desire to help others, I obsess, it is part of my chemistry with Obsessive compulsive disorder. That is an amazing attribute for art, but tragic for life skills and coping. (2)
Imagine someone standing in front of you, screaming, and you can't think of anything else. You can't escape those thoughts. They just repeat endlessly. You can track these moments in my art, the more detailed it is, the more anxious I was in that moment. (3)
I say this because, I was so excited to spend a week with the people I posted about in my thread about immigration and CPB. In the end, as all of it played out, we spent that whole week anxious, upset, and waiting. Yet, It was selfish to worry about anyone but them. (4)
I bottled it up. Found myself unable to think of anything else. Stuck in this horrific limbo, where our lives remained on hold in many aspects. They had huge issues to deal with, who was I? Just an artist that had a story to tell they understood and could relate to. (5)
Then, Silence. The lack of subsequent communication was most difficult. I was asked to tweet out this news to raise awareness, and warn others. Later I discovered I had violated rules I hadn't been told. I felt ashamed, but didn't understand why. They shut me out. (6)
When a person experiences a severe past trauma, it leaves scars. Sometimes others can not see these scars. They appear visible unexpectedly with sudden explosions of volatile emotional outbursts, or physical illness. I spent the past week vomiting without letting anyone know. (7)
My scars include abandonment issues, or being accused of unsubstantiated claims that something I have said is not true. Truth is critical in my life. I'm still working on the defensiveness, I remain fragile. My progress in healing is documented through the art I create. (8)
I've been so depressed, my body hurts from it. I know many of you understand this. It is this dark cloud I wade through, like waist high water, just to get to the point where I can start my day. Then I paint, and it feels instantly better. I tell you this for a reason. (9)
We all have our own hurt right now, we all are slaves to this nightmare of nearly unrecognizable life under trump's regime. That sudden loss of hope, or faith, from something you pinned your hopes on, is amplified to devastation when taken away. (10)
Yet as I type this, I realize, we have each other.
This mass of thousands of voices, each one just as vital.
We unite to remember life is still worth fighting for. There are sane, compassionate people, we will come through this, even if we have to crawl to get there. (11)
This mass of thousands of voices, each one just as vital.
We unite to remember life is still worth fighting for. There are sane, compassionate people, we will come through this, even if we have to crawl to get there. (11)
I may have lost faith in others, but I believe in this group of people in the resistance. I believe in all of you. That keeps me going. I will heal, and if you need help, too, I want to be there to help pick you up.
Let's get through this together. (12)
Let's get through this together. (12)
