Sketchbook Pages: Uprooted

Faith,
uprooted sundrip

I feel uprooted. Everything is different. My home is great but I’ve not laid down roots here. Most of my possessions are new because the old got thrown out. The only photo of my father that I had was thrown away accidentally. It is gone forever and it hurts.

My dishes, terrariums, plants, shoes, bed, sheets, furniture, everything is different and new. My frogs are new, fish are new. No dog or cat anymore. Heck, my laptop and phone are even new. I realized I have few things that I am emotionally attached to because I’ve not had them long enough. It feels like everything has new roots, nothing is stable, consistent, long term, dependable. 

I’m new. I’ve changed physically and emotionally. My eyes haven’t stopped watering since the amputation. They water nearly non-stop. 

I feel like I’m complaining but all I’m trying to say is that laying down new roots at 47 is difficult.

Outlook sundrip

Art supplies are new. Again, these are observations not necessarily complaints. I love my new art supplies, especially the Winsor and Newton watercolors seen in the photos. Winsor Newton puts out a superior product that I totally love and yet there’s a feeling of sadness because they don’t have longer history with me. It would seem their only history with me is the hospitalization. 

It hurts my heart to think that what all the new things have in common is trauma. So I’ve got to try and change that view to one more positive, something like this: All the new things are associated with SURVIVAL not near death. They are evidence of life, of a future, of deep, deep roots that helped me walk to this very day. 

Jordan

Art Art therapy Chronic Pain Faces Lupus Originals Paper Sketchbook diary Sunflowers Tree Art

Comments (7)

  1. Those last two sentences say it all. Good for you for trying to tweak your perspective enough for it to help you put down some roots right where you are.

    I’ve lived in my place nearly 7 years and it’s only seemed like home to me for about the last year. I’ve had to deliberately work on making it cozy so that I can begin to own my little haven. Now even though it’s too small I think I would hate to move away.

    PS I hate to even ask, but did any of the softies survive the move?

  3. New is hard. I think with DID there is great comfort in the same. Comfort and peace in stuff that is the same as always. Newness for us brings confusion.

    1. Boy do I know that! I don’t like new and you’re right about it bringing confusion. Life is hard enough with DID without having to deal with things changing too much.

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