Another Long Day

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.

Faith Magdalene

The Crooked Tea Cup – Chatter Art

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.

Please see my Etsy shop for this raw art original.

Faith

A little frustrated and it shows

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.

Faith

The Deluge – Now in Etsy

The Deluge is complete and is in my Etsy shop. One of the things I point out about the balance. The woman standing has legs and feet that are wound around. Each foot meets a tiger lily, a child and a purple flower in full bloom.

It is haunting in some areas. Those are the areas to leave behind. Those are the areas of the past that I can’t take with me to the future that I am building here. I’m not going to another planet. I’m right here. But some of these things need to swim free because they no longer have a place here.

If you visit my Etsy it’s worded better 🙂 You may also purchase through PayPal. Please see appropriate email address on the contact me area.

Thank you for listening,

Faith

The Southeastern Blue Bird

The Southeastern Blue Bird Learns A New Song” is a folk art original painting by Faith Austin. At 6.5×4.5 inches it’s miniature stature delights you with her song as she sits on a stick in the forest.

The song is new; it’s the song her father once sang. The young Blue Bird has yet to master it but she will, before the day ends.

This whimsical, folkart piece includes faux blue and orange features, music notes, flowers, branch, acrylic on paper, ink, water, wind and hope. She is signed, sealed and unmounted.

Etsy You can find me there.

Faith

OCD and Eating Disorders. Art.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and Eating Disorders occur together up to 40% of the time. My OCD and my eating disorder have gone untreated because there were other things that took first place like getting me emotionally stable so I could stay out of the psych ward, moving to stable housing, stabilizing dissociation and of course getting beyond the hospitalization in 2018. There’s always been something to push attention elsewhere.

Dr D and I have been discussing OCD regularly, and I’m still reading the OCD workbook. That’s going slowly because it’s very triggering. I discovered one of the most traumatic memories wasn’t my mother being abusive but having strong OCD symptoms for which she never sought help.

Every year when we went to Kentucky we crossed a bridge. While crossing we had to sit perfectly still for fear of triggering my mother, who said she’d drive over the edge. THAT is part of her OCD. At a reoccurring meeting, I worried I’d stand up and scream the F-word. THAT is the same kind of symptom from the disorder I inherited from her.

My mother and I share quite a few symptoms. We both need to see our belongings. I arrange and rearrange my apartment almost daily. It used to be daily. Now it’s once a week. The meds for OCD have helped me in many ways.

I keep quite a few art supplies out for two reasons; 1- easy to access 2- easy to see them, which brings me comfort.

Right now I’m having a difficult time with compulsive eating. There’s the obsessive thoughts followed by the compulsion. A box of 10 Twinkies was purchased the other day. Once the box is opened I’m compelled to eat the entire thing or risk something bad happening to me. I’m not sure what, but it happens with most packages of food. If I open it I’m compelled to eat the whole thing. I’ll eat during the day and night. I’ll wake up in the middle of the night until the item has been completely eaten. This means high calories that don’t get worked off like they used to. To make matters worse, three of my most vital medications has the side effect of increased appetite. I have that pulling on me and OCD associated eating.

There’s no strong emotion followed by binging. It’s obsessive thoughts followed by binging and compulsive eating. I don’t purge in any way though it has recently crossed my mind. I don’t want to gain more weight but I also don’t want to ever purge again, in any way.

I have to say, being in a wheelchair has increased pacing, rocking, counting and staying awake until I absolutely have to go to sleep. Then when I’m sleeping I don’t want to wake up. These may not all be OCD issues. I just recognize these behaviors in myself.

It can sometimes take

The book has really helpful information but as I said, it’s triggering because it brings back unwanted memories of my mother and her extreme behavior.

I’m unaware of aunts having OCD. As far as I know it’s in the immediate bloodline. It goes from my mother to my sister and me. It’s as disruptive in my life as dissociation.

Art

The woman feels very judged and misunderstood.

The 12×9 collage is on heavy paper and includes words and phrases cut out and strategically placed. It’s a work in progress. I’ve got to figure out what to do with the background. I started this piece today. I hope to finish it and one other piece very soon. The below piece is called The Deluge. The eating disorder piece is called Dignity.

Faith

Father. Art.

I keep sighing. My heart is heavy but I keep trying to lift it up.

The fatigue is insane.

I’m learning so much about how OCD affects my life and how it affected my mother and sister.

I don’t know why I keep thinking about my father. I remember his voice was kind and sweet. I don’t want to be angry with my mother for separating us. It’s foolish to entertain what-if scenarios but what if one of my parents loved me.

I say my mother didn’t love but I’ve got to retract that statement. The more I learn about her mental health the more I think she had love for me from time to time but was unable to most of the time. There were many things I can point to now and see a shadow of normalcy where love could have existed. Somewhere in that shadow she may have been capable of loving me. Sometimes there may have been a spark.

I bet my mother battled depression after the divorce. I remember feeling like a failure after my marriage ended. Is that why she cried so often? Did she cry because of the divorce and the loneliness?

It’s hard to say she may have loved me while knowing the extremes she went to in order to hurt us.

She lied and told me my father was dead when he wasn’t. Now I wonder if what contact she had with him in my younger years.

Like all my other family photos, my father’s photo is tucked away so I can’t see it. There are no family photos on my walls at all, just art.

Our family of three left a restaurant together. While in the car my mother told me and my sister to “freeze, it’s an emergency, don’t move.” She said look straight ahead and don’t move. After about a minute or so she gave the all clear then said, “That was your father in the car next to us.” It was cruel.

I’m tired. I’ve got to sleep very shortly then get up and eat. The fatigue is heavy.

Original Art

This piece has changed significantly. It now reflects dissociation and PTSD. It’s currently listed in my Etsy shop.

This is more Chatter Art. It’s art that I do to better manage the incessant talking in my head. I’ll put this in the shop too. It’ll be in the section for journal art.

The above is complete and ready for the shop. It too is chatter art. It feels great to finish art pieces. You can see more in my Etsy shop. 🙂

I have a restart button hanging on the wall so if things really start to go down hill I can hit the button, take 5 minutes for breathing exercises then get back to life. I got the button from Dollar Tree.

Until soon,

Faith

Sunflowers and Endurance

“At the end of the day we can endure much more than we think we can” – Freda Kahlo

The art piece deals with loss and grief. The largest figure holds tombstones in her hair, and her tears roll down into a heart. Those are some of the details in this small but mighty original art piece.

After some breaths and a lot of hot tea, I was able to get this original work in my Etsy shop. There’s even a short video. Please visit.

Thank you,

Faith

This week in photos: Stress. Pets. Art.

Joe has finally won over the CNA. She likes him quite a bit. Joe doesn’t climb in the chair she usually sits in but he does rest under it now.

I’ve been doing more art with Scriptures and scriptural thoughts. This little 8×5-ish painting is for a good friend of mine in Arizona.

I’ve got to work on spacing out my lettering better.

Rosie is taking a bath in the 30 gallon, over grown, terrarium. Today on a group there was a free gecko. It took everything I had not to inquire. 🙂

I think as my buddy gets older I fear losing him.

I thought getting a younger cat now might make the inevitable, tolerable. But then there’s the possibility it’ll just stress Joe.

Joe is only 14 but that’s nothing to sneeze at …….. He’s been letting me pick him up and hold him a little longer, which is great for me. If I talk to him he’ll let me hold him longer but I find it difficult to chatter at pets.

I’m in love with my raw beads! I used brown Sculpy mixed with yellow FIMO that dries like leather. Just to put them in a safe spot, I slid them on a piece of leather. It looks pretty good. I put it on my vase holding my arrowhead plants.

Painting rocks and making beads is so relaxing.

Here are a few photos of me on ‘outing day’. Next week I’m going to CC’s Pizza. I’m getting out a lot more and loving it.

I’ve got company this weekend. It should be nice. Lol I feel like a bit of a social butterfly again.

Until soon,

Faith

Healing. Heart and Rock Art

Fractured but still joyful

Drawing and doodling continue to be my primary way of relieving anxiety; however, I may have a new way in a few months. Before the wrists, my doctor approved me to do one hour of vigorous exercise each day. I enjoy exercise. Always have.

I was going to go to the gym on “amputee night, ” as well as other planned physical activities. I can still do some stuff but the gym is going to have to wait. It’s going to be a bit b4 I can do that much.

It’s the small bones in the base of the thumb and wrist area that are broken. I chose not to have a fixed cast bc I’m a bit claustrophobic. So far I’m dealing better adjusting to the ones I have. Still kills me it had to come out of my pocket!

I’ve been painting more rocks while wearing the basic wrist braces I have. I also noticed that lately, hearts have shown up quite a bit in my art. I put in on the chest of figures or hide them in crosshatch or shade. Now I’ve moved to painting hearts on random rocks. I feel compelled to do it. I’ve not explored why, and I probably won’t. But I am allowing myself to paint hearts on rocks.

One rock has a heart on top but the rest of the rock is black. Mixed in the black are hints of blue and orange. I sealed them with Mod Podge. I’ve still got the painted rock from when I was in the hospital. 🙂 These guys make great encouragement when arranged together in a bowl.

The casts kinda hurt and they don’t let me do too much. Using the restroom is interesting. Lol.

For a bit the broken wrists took me back to one of the best years growing up. During my Sophomore year I rode my bike to theater club and loved it. I saw my mother very little. I remember fondly how life was very much a teen movie plot. I remember the summer and how much fun I was having. My sister had fun too but she shattered her wrist that year. She also stole my boyfriend. See what I mean, teen movie drama! The Breakfast Club. Pretty in Pink! There was deception, inner conflict, school life and music 🙂 I remember dedicating love songs on the radio to my boyfriend. I love memories like this bc they’re normal and innocent. Sisters make immature mistakes. We were just kids.

It’s helpful for me to look back and see normal parts of childhood. It feels important to have affirmation that I wasn’t a victim child being abused 24/7, like that was all I was alive for. I had good times, especially life as a student.

Faith