Life in Pictures – The Assignment

My abandonment issues have raged since the exit of the CNA I adored. She’s been gone for a week now. It’s affected my trust issues, paranoia and OCD issues. Going through the week with her knowing she would be gone in a few days was rather difficult.

I can feel the anxiety and emotion in my throat. I’ve been dealing with it by concentrating on art, plants and the cat. I’ve done so very little volunteer work. Argh.

Poor Joe is going to need a lightweight shirt to wear for the winter. My menopausal symptoms have affected heating the apartment. I can’t take this heat! I had it so the heat would come on at 65 degrees even while I have an 8 inch strong wind fan blowing on me. It’s not good right now LOL I’ve only turned the heat on about 3x since the season changed. How is it possible to be anemic and have hot flashes hourly, daily!

There was a day again where Joe seemed to have trouble with his front paws so I made him a bed, this time it’s on the floor. I would have made a box bed for him but my cat hates boxes. He doesn’t get in them. As a matter of fact, Joe runs when he sees a box or plastic bag. Yeah, he’s odd.

I thought I’d try to track the barometric pressure so I can kind of anticipate his arthritis pain and mine. Getting too cold will only make matters worse for him. I hope getting a lightweight shirt will help. It needs to be light bc cats can overheat too easily.

When Joe isn’t wearing his shirt I could let him use his bed with a safe heating pad that auto shuts off every 2 hours. I can set it to a low temperature and put it under his blankets, like I did last time.

I’ve done nothing more with designing Frog Mansion. It’s set up nicely but it’s not finished. I’ve done nothing to the Tomato Frog Apartment 🙂 I’m not calling it that LOL It’s just that it pales in significance beside Frog Mansion where my Australian Green Tree Frogs live. Anyway, I intend to work on it at the the beginning of December, at which time I’ll also add more soil and leaf litter to the Mansion.

Putting many of my houseplants in the mansion didn’t give back as much space as I thought but it has helped me simplify my watering system. Now I water plants 3 days out of 7 instead of daily. And it only takes anywhere from 20 min to an hour to water. I love how simple it is now.

I’m uncertain if I spoke of my hope plant. I’m seriously in love with this plant bc it’s name is my favorite word; hope. It’s in the peperomia family, which I’ve come to enjoy lately.

I would be lying if I said I’m not going to buy more plants but I will say they’ll have to wait bc I’m going to need paint. I’d like to get to Hobby Lobby but I don’t think it’s going to happen. It would save money though. I’ve never purchased from their website.

I’m stuck on the art piece in the photos because I now regret adding the ghost-like memories leading to and through the house. I’m not certain how I’ll make it look right. I’d remove them if so many other images weren’t dependent on the ghost-like memories.

I’ve got a completed painting that I’m determined to completely seal by Monday. I seal paintings in very small areas at a time because I don’t want pooling, running or gaps in the seal. I’m not going to spray it, so it’ll take a little time.

I’m not sure why I’m procrastinating. In general I’m not a procrastinator but I’ve been putting this off for 3 weeks. I’m having trouble letting go. I think I’ve been unsettled and I’m holding on to things.

To also unsettle me are the recent mass shootings, three back to back with a horrific quadruple knife murder. I don’t even know how to process this stuff and manage my own horrors.

I check the news online once a day, from various sources.

I will continue to have zero friends on my Facebook page so I can limit the amount of exposure to politics and the hatred it produces.

Despite the fact that the world has gone mad, I feel 99% like my normal depressed, anxious, dissociative self. Do I feel strong? No. I feel prepared and supported. I feel I better understand this part of the assignment.

Faith

Bonfire. Dissociative Identity Disorder.

Bonfire. The most exciting news is that I was able to go to the bonfire my friends had. It was wonderful! I got to pet a cute puppy ??. Then when it got dark the kids put glow sticks on. They made glow stick glasses, ears and bracelets then played tag in the dark. It was one of the most pure things I’ve seen in a long time.

Sitting there with my friends I thought back to when I asked why I even survived the events of 2018. Life was unbearable and I wonder why on earth I survived just to feel so hopeless. Now the public health emergencies have ended and I don’t need to isolate any longer. So I went to the bonfire and laughed with friends I’ve known from 10 to 30 years. There were smores, BBQ and innocent fun. That is why I survived 2018. Moments like the night of the bonfire, that is what I survived for!

I was in the hospital 2 weeks ago which totally freaked me out and triggered PTSD issues. I managed it though.

I had the opportunity to put my feet in grass again, which was the first time since the amputation. Unfortunately, I can’t feel the grass anymore, there’s just not enough feeling in that foot. Later I thought about how I can put my palms in the grass instead of trying to feel it on the surviving foot. It’s also come to my attention that I can do grounding / earthing with the palms of my hands …… I find it interesting that when primarily people of color didn’t wear shoes it was a reason to call us uncivilized. Now it’s earthing / grounding.

DID and Mental Health Its noteworthy that during my mental health breakdown during the pandemic, I had a split. I’ve done so much work integrating but I’m susceptible to splitting again, and I have. I talked to Dr D about it bc I recognized 2 people here who had been integrated. It’s taken a few months for me to be certain that Maureen and Crystal have split off again. I’m not a doctor so I can’t give specifics on how, but I’m 100% certain of it. I’m kind of embarrassed.

It was the assault that sealed my decision not to further integrate. I have who I have. Lol. Of course I’m staying in therapy, it’s just not with the goal of integration.

So this is my long, drawn out entry about all that’s happening over here on Sundrip and in the last few weeks. ???? Some things are trying, but I’ve made a lot of progress on the new psych meds. I’m pleased with the spot I’m in. I can now stand to be in my skin.

Thanks for hanging in and reading my updates.

Until soon,

Faith

Half a Century More

I started this little painting back in October of last year but I just now finished it. It looks so much better in person than the terrible photograph. This 7×10 watercolor piece has a lot of numbers on it. The numbers are ages that were very significant to me with age 47 being the last significant age on the painting.

The painting shows a young girl who divides the paper. She’s a young me with a split face depicting multiple personalities. Though I don’t know the exact age I split, I’m sure I was fully a multiple by the age of nine. I have a few symbols in the painting like a peanut and a purple butterfly as well as a wheelchair with a sunflower instead of a wheel.

One of the most significant things about this painting is the tree. It is bare on one side and full of colorful leaves on the other. Though they’re fall leaves that are technically dying, the point was to have colorful and lively leaves like seen in the Fall, which happens to be my favorite season.

I call the painting Half a Century More because of what a friend said to me jokingly the other day. I told her I’m about to turn 50 and she said, “Oh, you’re going to be half a century old.” Well I tell you I was floored!!! Wow. Do you have to put it that way? It took a few days to kind of get settled with it but now I think to myself, I’ve lived a half century but I’d like to live a half century more. I’d like to have a lot more art to paint, dolls to sew and days to figure out how to be happiest.

I won’t be 50 until August but I’m so, so exited I can’t stand it. I honestly never expected to see that number. For many reasons I didn’t expect to be here but half a century on and I’m still kicking!

Faith

Tiny Art. Safe Art.

Sometimes I paint on a tiny little canvas because it feels less overwhelming and very doable. Larger canvas is hard to manage so I don’t mess with that at all but even at times an 8 x 10 piece of paper is daunting, so I pull out a small little canvas and let my mind play.

Lately I’ve painted sunflower after sunflower. It’s my go to art symbol that represents an array of mixed and confusing emotion with dissociation and multiplicity. One thing I recently learned about the sunflower is that when the sun isn’t out sunflowers face each other and sort of share energy.

The sunflower is the absolute perfect symbol of multiplicity. It’s got all those little lives (seeds) in its head. It can be a larger than life support system for itself and others which I find very, very cool.

One tiny painting included in this entry shows a little black girl hanging on to a huge sunflower. The other is a sunflower abstract. Each painting is on a 2.5 x 3.5 inch birch wood canvas. I used acrylic paint and ink then gave them a gloss finish. These little tiny art pieces would have originally shown up in my Etsy shop, however, they’ve been sold.

In between creating tiny art there is more doll making and art journaling, which I shall share at a later date.

Thanks for visiting Sundrip. If this is your first time then, welcome. If you are a regular reader, thanks so much for coming back.

Faith

A Look Back at Art Projects

I’ve been updating the galleries here on Sundrip and ran across some art pieces I’ve not seen in a little bit. I thought I’d share some of them with you.

honorable
Honorable – Redbubble

Honorable is an art piece that started all the art therapy pieces. I can even remember the assignment and who gave it. I look at this art with the humble young woman and umbrella and feel a sense of peace.

Beckoning

Beckoning is a painting created close to the same time as Honorable. Beckoning shows a young girl either accepting gifts or freeing herself. I could never decide which I was trying to say with this piece.

I created her with a program that is no longer in existence, way back before digital drawing tablets were popular and before Photoshop was widely available. I used my computer mouse and painted each part of her, one stroke at a time.

Looking Forward

Looking Forward – a digital piece with a lot of detail but also a lot of sky and a huge star of hope. A hand comes out of the mountains and holds a young girl to looks forward and into her new life. She’s being given a new lease on life.

I love her butterfly wings and the graceful way she sits.

These three paintings are a glimpse into what you’ll find in the newly designed Digital Arts Gallery here on Sundrip – Art for Life. To see all available digital prints for your home please visit my Redbubble shop.

Faith

Strong Enough

Not Strong Enough fma

Today is one of those days where I feel the weight of what happened in the hospital. I feel shocked, stunned, grieved. I can only describe it as a train wreck where I can still hear the sound of metal crumbling around me. What I feel today must be what I was feeling when I drew and painted in this image with the caption: There’s more to do. I’m not strong enough.

We went over the image in therapy and talked about the butterflies included and how they symbolize transformation. Also significant is the green under the eyes which I used to stand for goals of growth and keeping focused on them. Despite that focus there’s dissociation (figures in the tree) to fight as well as feelings of trauma and grief symbolized by the hanging figure between the eyes. Hanging on is my main focus. It’s what’s between my eyes. No matter what, just hang on. That’s what I think the girl in the middle is doing. 

I look at the color of the dress of the girl hanging on and realize it ‘should be’ a shade of red, however, it is orange paint that drips into red. In my art therapy pieces, orange symbolizes ambiguity, mixed emotions, indecision. Then of course there’s the spiral in the throat. I started that about a year ago when it became very difficult for me to verbalize my feelings. As if through a hole in my neck, the words escaped me.

Recently I’ve felt like an idiot trying to talk, so I just didn’t. I didn’t email or write on this blog for a number of days (never a good thing for me). I just got quiet. Today I feel better equipped to put two words together but I also feel worn thin by it all. 

Tomorrow is another much needed therapy session. Like every Monday, it’s over the phone. However, I’ll be going in to his office every other Friday to see him. In the Friday sessions, Michelle will get dedicated time where she’ll talk about her own art and issues. The goal is for her to do some healing, too.

Faith

Black and White

Finding artwork created by alter personalities used to happen quite a bit. I thought it was strictly a thing of the past but I guess I was wrong. It would seem that I still find art I don’t know a thing about. I was quite shocked to see the piece called My Sister in the middle of the entry Half of Us and All.  That piece is by Michelle and I have no recollection of it. I was relieved to see it though because I thought the only thing I am no capable of is abstract images in black and white. I thought I was all arted out or something. So when I saw her drawing and several of Robert’s drawings, I was quite pleased that we’ve still got some art images in us to put on paper. I’m not going to press it though. If all I can do is put ink on paper from corner to corner like in this entry then so be it. If other times I paint or draw something more ‘substantial’ then that’s fine, too.

black white african fma Sundrip

Dr. D and I talked about my creative goals for next year. My goal is simple which means its going to be difficult. My goal is to have some fun, just let it be. That’s what I intend to do. I’m not going to force myself to create anything. I’m not going to nag myself or get down on myself. I create what I create. I paint what I paint. 

I am also in a newer financial situation. For the first time in about ten years its not imperative that I sell art each month. My rent is affordable now.

Though I no longer get government assistance with food, I am at least able to budget the same amount I used to get so that my food purchases don’t need to change just because the money source did. Well, I shouldn’t say I don’t get foodstamps any longer. I get $15.00 each month for food from the government. I look at that number and just laugh. How did they come to that amount? I knew with rent so low I’d lose quite a few foodstamps but $15 is insulting. Even so, things are much easier now, financially speaking. Things got bad for a minute there. 

Dr. D wanted to know if the subject matter of my art will change with stresses lower and with my goal of fun in mind. No. I doubt it. My art changes when something emotional happens in my life. The subject of my art changes when an alter paints instead of me or that alter is in therapy. Michelle (age 12) is taking some of the time for her stuff our in office sessions. Robert used to do that but hasn’t since we got sick last time. He’s sort of in a managerial position inside and is doing his very best to keep us all on the same page with things running smoothly. He’s busy keeping us sane, taking meds and dealing with CNA stuff. I’m happy to see he’s sketching and painting in the book. I’ll scan that next week. For now I just have black and white ink work which is art worked on by several of us. I have no intention of adding color. 

This goal of creative fun is of interest to me because it comes at the tail end the honeymoon of my post hospitalization. I can tell I’m still very shocked and traumatized by what happened so it interests me that I would say I just want to have some fun. I don’t want to worry about producing something worthy of showing on the blog. I want the weight of my own criticism and expectations to no longer crush my creative process and enjoyment. I want to go with the flow more. I don’t want to see this as my job. Yeah, it is my job. I paint and sell my artwork and dolls. This is my employment, but never should I burden myself or load myself with unreachable expectations. So, lets see what stress I can throw off in 2019. Lets see if I can allow myself to have some creative fun. 

Because my plate is full and I’m a bit overwhelmed with life, I’ve only set the one creative goal for 2019. I usually do three but not for the coming year. 

Jordan

Therapy Review: Half of Us and All

Half of Us

In therapy we talked about the unfinished image “Both of Us”, drawn by Robert over a two day period. We spent a lot of time on it because it drew us into a discussion about being co-conscious and more integrated.  My emotions are more integrated and more identifiable.

I showed him 4 drawings total. Three of the drawings were done by Robert. When Robert draws himself in work, it is important to him for Dr. D to see the image of Robert. He doesn’t want to be overlooked or looked through. To be ignored and overlooked is painful for anyone. 

We talked about the colors and why I use certain colors. We talked about how different it is that Robert used yellow on the face in his drawing. We don’t do yellow at all. Hate yellow. Of course he asked why and I just told him. My mother’s mattress had yellow flowers on it. There were too many times I had my face buried in that yellow and that’s all I could see. I hate that color to touch me now. I use it in art to mean negative things. For it to touch his face tells me there’s some sort of guilt or maybe flashbacks that he is dealing with. Yellow in art is explained on my art therapy page. It’s also interesting that the pants worn by the girl in the upper left corner is wearing yellow pants. This just doesn’t happen, not even in art. 

My Sister by Michelle

The image to the side was drawn by Michelle in pencil. Dr. D noted that the people are in typical fashion from what I used to draw.  He says the people have a look of despair and trauma on their faces. It’s funny, I don’t set out to make my images look this way. I just start drawing what I feel. I think its the same for others inside. Everyone just draws what they feel. The painting or coloring in is according to our color chart that we’ve had for who knows how long. 

We discussed how it feels to have a 12 year old alter around who doesn’t want to be called anything but her own name and doesn’t want to be mistaken for Faith.

Dr. D called Michelle the last hold out, then laughed. Yeah. Everyone else is on board with knowing and understanding what it means to have DID. We know how we got here and why we have DID but this one kid ain’t havin’ it. She can’t accept that she is not separate. She hasn’t yet learned that what she does affects the rest of us and what we do affects her. We’re a system….. We take care of each other.

She wants her own sketchbook but we won’t let her do it. She draws and paints in the community book just like everyone else. 

There’s guilt associated with ‘causing’ us to feel anxious whenever she’s around. Her anxiety is always very, very high.  

Speaking of high, Dr. D and I discussed differences in artwork when I’m high. He asked if there’s a difference in noise level in my head when I’m high. Yes. I can hear the alter personalities clearer so it feels louder at times with pot, but there’s also a calm that covers us all. It works out well if I eat it. I had it in hot chocolate the other day. Turns out that homemade honey cake with weed is pretty good. That one was new for me.

Last but not least, Michelle got her snails in the mail today. How totally cool is that! All the way from Greece! She keeps saying, I would have been happy even if they’d been from across the street but no one had snails that they were selling locally.  I think it’s totally cool that they’re from Greece. It just sort of happened that way and I’m glad it did.

Jordan 

Girl Inside

Girl Inside

Art by: Faith Magdalene Austin
Art Title: Girl Inside
Media: Watercolor and Acrylic on 98 lb paper
Style: Raw, African Americana, Folk Art, Black Art
Finish: Sealed, signed,

Here’s a close up look at this very emotional piece of a girl with someone else inside.

SUNDRIP – Art for Life
www.sundrip.etsy.com

My first and most intimate lessons in communication

Jester
Jester

This is a borrowed conversation.

I listened to the first 3 min of a video where a person was talking about how well they treated their significant other, but it wasn’t appreciated. I could only bear a few min of it. What got me the most was that she said, I’m not perfect but, you guys know me, ……..” I figure, if a person starts a conversation with, “I’m not perfect but…” then you can be pretty sure they’ve done something they need to apologize for. What she said in those few minutes got me thinking about the way I think and the way I communicate.

My first and most intimate lessons in communication had to do with figuring out what was expected of me from a woman who had a singular agenda that did not include me. My first and most intimate lessons in communication included weaving in and around insults or crafting my statements to avoid being accused of disobedience. My chief instructor, the person responsible for every aspect of my life, was crazy.

I walked thin lines and broke them repeatedly. I’d go over in my head how to do it better, say it better, how to keep from being a disappointment. I was one of those kids that tried all sorts of creative ways to be who she needed to be. I couldn’t figure it out because I was missing one piece of information; her agenda doesn’t include you.

It is clear to me that youth was nothing more than a performance lacking true emotion and conviction.

After taking my freedom, after being in therapy half of my life, I still struggle to show on my face what I’m feeling inside. I use words or I paint to explain myself. I can be suicidal and laugh in the same conversation, but this time I know to tell the person ahead of time that I’ve not broken the conditioning in this area. I have to tell them to listen to what I’m saying, please don’t look at my smiling face.

Continue reading “My first and most intimate lessons in communication”