Category: Paintings

OCD and Eating Disorders. Art.

Posted on by Faith

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

What Keeps Me Awake – Fear of letting go

Posted on by Faith

My mind will catch up with me if I turn over and go to sleep.

Grief will catch up with me if I allow my mind to slow down.

I’m afraid of the images that are so vivid even with my eyes closed so I watch worthless TV shows and listen to books I’ve heard more than the author has heard it himself.

I feel myself running. I’m afraid of being left. I hate hanging up the phone after therapy. I hate when my CNA leaves for the day. I feel alone in the world when people leave. It’s not that they are leaving to go home, it feels like they’re leaving me.

My face is different all the time.

I see my different selves in photos.

My appearance drastically changes as the day goes on.

It takes so much mental and physical energy to leave the house. When I return, I look swollen and tired. Seriously, these two photos were taken hours apart.

I often do not recognize myself in the mirror and that spooks me.

On days when this is happening I go in the restroom with the lights off, and keep my eyes down so I don’t catch the eyes of the person in the mirror.

I recently looked at more photos of my mother and her sisters. You can tell we share blood. I don’t mind clearly being from that family. Years ago I started getting ok in my head with having my mother’s hands. It feels like it should bother me to look so much like that family but it doesn’t. I suppose it would be another story if they were dog-butt ugly.

Art

I like to play with light on my face. I often want my face to be my art, expressing different emotions.

Photos after dental surgery (and with a filter) allowed me to show how my heart feels bruised and beaten by grief. It’s not just grief for -K-, it’s grief over the catastrophic consequences from the selfish choices my family routinely made when I was young. It’s grief over decisions I made as an adult trying to survive my past.

Sometimes these things feel as if they consume me.

*No worries. These photos are from past dental surgery. I’m 100% safe and healed, as seen in the recent photos at the top of the entry. *

I sold a few paintings.

I sold the little girl with the balloon

and the one about faith. The funds will go towards my trip at the end of June. I’m hoping to really fill my Etsy shop in hopes of making more money for my three day stay. I’ve also updated my Redbubble shop that offers prints and products of my art pieces.

It’s 2 in the morning. I have things to do tomorrow but being alone in the dark is hard.

My head is no better than when I started writing. Please, I need peace inside.

Joan

Father. Art.

Posted on by Faith

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

What Keeps Me Awake – Death and Dying

Posted on by Faith

I have more trust that tomorrow will come than I did six years ago, still I live as if I’m breaths away from dying. I feel overwhelmed with the idea of dying which makes me wonder what will happen to all my plants I’ve worked so hard to nurture? Who will take my frogs if I die? Will they appreciate small moments with aquatic frogs and cute poses by the tree frogs?

And Joe, who will care for Joe? He’s 14. I’m his second home. Being passed around can be difficult.

My CNA has covid and will be gone for a bit. I was with her a day before she tested positive. I’ve consistently tested negative, as well as no fever.

You know what’s funny? I’ve got a very nice fill in but she’s not up to par with my regular CNA. Despite calling her a psychopath lol, her standard of care is significantly higher than others; this, on top of taking the time to get to know me, makes her a really good CNA.

I like the person I have right now, the cat does, too, but would she ever take the time to get to know me and work with me long term? I wonder, if I had to get a new CNA will it be difficult again? I’ve come to understand how difficult my OCD can be to work with.

I wish my regular CNA had to experience two clients before returning to me. The feeling of not knowing what you’ve got till it’s gone, goes both ways.

She most certainly has OCD though it manifests itself differently. Somehow we work well together. We’ve even sit down and talk about the books I have on OCD.

There’s a Japanese artist named Yayoi Kusama whom I relate to very well. She’s got OCD and other issues but it’s her OCD that I relate to the most.

Yayoi shamelessly paints what she sees in her head, in bright colors.

She’s known for painting dots and pumpkins.

Yayoi helped me let go of shame concerning how I express chatter in art form.

I scribble and sketch in order to process the constant talking in my head and the oppressive amount of stimulation I feel.

I have quite a few pieces of chatter art. To me, my chatter art feels different from art that I call chaos in color because the chatter has very little focus, no space unfilled, no place to rest the eyes, yet a legitimate expression of art therapy.

Yayoi spoke of feeling like the “modern day Alice in Wonderland.” I can’t count the amount of times I’ve called myself the Black Alice in Wonderland.

It feels good knowing my art has a place out here and that I don’t have to feel crazy about it. It’s ok to identify with Alice and Wonderland. It’s ok to let the art simply be a copy of inside my head, and to do so in emotive fashion.

Recently I’ve been using alcohol ink. It works well for what I’m trying express, and they travel well.

The artwork above is a combination of acrylic paint, neon acrylic paint, alcohol ink, black ink, gesso, paper.

I love how Yayoi prefers paper, too. I’m strongly considering writing to the 94 year old artist way over in Japan. She’s made a deep impression on me.

It’s encouraged when I find female artists like Yayoi and Freda Kahlo who by example, give my art legitimacy.

Tonight. I’m not sure why I’m overly stimulated. Concerns with death are extreme. Thank goodness I have plenty of art supplies.

Faith

White Balloon Series pieces 2 and 3

Posted on by Faith

As you can see, this artwork is painted directly on my clipboard. I’d been using the clipboard as a pallet. One thing led to another and I’d upcycled clip boards into part two and three of the White Balloon Series.

Both are 8 x 12 inches. These fully functioning art clipboards are offered separately on Etsy.

Thank you for visiting Sundrip – Art for Life

Faith

Young Child with White Balloon

Posted on by Faith

“Young Child with White Balloon” is an acrylic, wax color and ink original art piece with strong contrasting colors and swirls. She is first of 3 in the “White Balloon” Series.

Mod Podge gives texture to the the flowers and the white lace at the bottom of her purple and blue dress. White bows are in her black pony tails.

Still pumped by lots of tea, I was moved to do short and simple entries of art that’s ready for a home. My apologies for duplicate entries.

There’s something about the balloon that moves me. It shows up in two more pieces.

Please visit my Etsy shop for more photo details and sales information. I also accept PayPal.

Faith

Sunflowers and Endurance

Posted on by Faith

“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

A History of Eyes on Me

Posted on by Faith

Content: Abuse. Being watched by abusers. Sadism.

Publishing this art piece comes at an odd time seeing as how I just talked about store workers profiling and following me and my caregiver at the store. It’s also not concerning imaginary audience / fable but an all together different type of being watched.

I was never sure why my mother was watching me. I was more concerned by her method of watching me. Although I know she watched me and my sister around the second grade, my most vivid memories are the 4th grade when she wore her trench coat and stood behind the door motionlessly.

The coat was her regular coat. It was a black trench coat. When the lights were out we couldn’t see her, nor were we looking for her. But if we saw a motionless figure in the hallway it scared the crap out of us. She’d make sure we’d seen her before walking away. No words. Just walks away.

After a little while I worked hard not to show I was afraid. I’d either say nothing or turn around to the door and say something to her. I had to guage how far I could go in pretending she didn’t scare me. I knew there was a response she was looking for. If I withheld that response too much, I might regret it. When being beaten with a dowel rod I knew I had to give the response she was looking for.

"She speaks the dream" - available

When being watched in the room alone, when showering or using the restroom there was a response she was looking for. I always wondered if there were times she wasn’t trying to get caught and see my reaction. This game of watching went on all the way to the day before I moved out. She listened to phone calls when we had a corded phone. I owned nothing, especially my body.

When I moved to Florida with my mother’s sister, my cousin and an uncle by marriage, I thought life was going to be good. He said he would treat me like his own daughter. That one sentence makes me want to break into tears. The irony of it is cruel.

Roses for Jane - available

My cousin was his step daughter. She endured more abuse than me. Having me dress up. Making crude comments. Watching me. If I turned around and saw him watching through the cracked door, he too would stay just a few seconds longer before quietly leaving.

I’ll be keeping A History of Eyes on Me a little while longer. It’s hanging in my own art area beside the painting She Speaks the Dream, which was created in 2017.

Observations – The painting called Roses for Jane was remade. In addition to more eyes, I brought out the figure in the back then made a dramatic leap by dividing the main figure in black and white. I kept quite a bit of the original twist and turns while softening her face by one notch. As a person who uses sunflowers for emotional expressions, it interests me that not a single flower is on the original piece or the new. The main figure is no longer standing in the dark.

Thank you for coming to Sundrip today.

Faith

This week in photos: Stress. Pets. Art.

Posted on by Faith

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

You’re Strength Painting. Next Year’s Art Goals.

Posted on by Faith

It took a month instead of two weeks to complete the painting of sunflowers with the Scripture. When the painting was picked up she ordered one for herself. The other person who saw it ordered one. I’ll be doing them on paper. I seriously do not enjoy canvas.

One of my art goals for next year is to increase the amount of art that’s based on Scripture.

I also like the idea of painting my cat, but I’m pretty bad at animals. Maybe I’ll just keep photographing him.

Michael Joseph Austin aka Joe Schmoe, is going to be 15 next year. Honestly, it kind of scares me because I worry about losing him. It’s been 2 years since he had a stroke. His eyesight was affected, other than that he’s the same cat.

There are three goals for the next creative year 🙂

  • Scripture based art.
  • Painting cats in an outsider art kind of way.
  • Paint butterflies in outsider art kinda way.

I’ve joined a group about butterflies and have seen some absolutely amazing creations. I have to paint them! I’ve also got a book I was given by a good friend.

Those are my new year’s goals.

Gratitude List

  • I’m entirely moved by the varied designs, textures and vivid colors of butterflies.
  • Cookies. Above any other flavor, I love big sugar cookies with icing and sprinkles. A friend brings them sometimes.
  • I enjoy trying new things. My CNA and I laughed so hard at how bad bison steak is. So, so nasty! The texture and taste is a catastrophic collision that may have killed taste buds. Just wow lol. I’m grateful for the ability to laugh and still appreciate the experience due to the laughter, and I’m looking forward to trying other new things. 🙂

Faith