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. 🙂
I woke around 9am but I didn’t get up until 1 pm. I just couldn’t get going.
Yesterday was a full day in that we went to Michael’s craft store, Hobby Lobby and Lowes. I got a sunflower stash at Michael’s, all 4 of the large sunflowers total $10. Score! I’m physically exhausted from that but it was great.
I’ve been trying to figure out why I’m so afraid to sleep. I’ve even wanted to sleep with the light on. I’m uneasy and even afraid at night. I have no reason to be. I’m not a kid anymore. I’m under my own roof. Yes, the fear is strong but it only lives in my head. It’s not based on 2023. The fear is from a few years past and when I was young.
I fear laying down flat and suffocating. I didn’t fear laying down flat until the 2018 events. Now I panic and can’t breathe.
For me, the most trauma is February 12th when it all happened. May 7th when they amputated my foot and August 25th when I moved into this apartment. It’s funny, I don’t remember the date of the thrombectomy. That’s the heavy duty surgery I did. So yeah, I’ve got some PTSD stuff going on right now.
It’s also noteworthy that I’ve been switching personalities a lot. Honestly, the only person who should be out with our caregiver is Jordan yet little ones, Joan and Maureen have been out, too. The anxiety levels are very different.
I love that she takes me places. I love that she hasn’t missed a day nor has she been late the whole 4 months she’s been here. We’ve clashed but we’ve not quit on each other. She flipped out once and said some horrible things. I hope she doesn’t believe what she said …….. We primarily get along well.
Today I want to isolate. I want baked goods and endless hours of tiktok. That’s what depression says I want. Well, I’m up now. The tea kettle is on. I’ll sip Earl Gray, change my clothes and fight a little bit.
One secure way to feel better is to reach out and do something for others. A friend that knows I’m struggling is sending an e-card, everyday, for a full month. If that sounds like a lot, the same cherished friend sent me a rose every day for 5 months I was in the hospital. She’s truly a gift. So, what can I do to help someone close to me? I’m going to make two small paintings, one for the person sending me e-cards and one for a different person I know is struggling.
I think I feel well enough now to set a few minor goals for today.
Dust while listening to my book
Clear off my art table
One of two small paintings / greeting cards
Get in a halfway decent meal
Hopefully I can get some more art in my Etsy shop. I’ve got two more on the way.
I’m itching to make dolls again, too. I purchased 3 skeins of yarn yesterday to use for the doll’s hair; plum, burnt orange and honey-flaxen blonde. I want to do the purple first. I keep seeing people with beautiful non-traditional hair colors so I got purple and orange for doll’s hair. I’ll see what my creative side can do with these colors.
Alright, after 2 cups of tea and some typing, I think I’m ready to do part two of today. I feel a little stronger.
Four things I’m grateful for today.
A friend is coming to help with my hospital bed that’s giving me the blues.
I feel a tad bit of motivation. I want to tap into it.
Galaxy Nebula projector that makes being in the dark a bit easier.
You 🙂 for taking the time to read this. Thank you 🙂
I paid a heavy price in pain for a little bit of freedom from my wheelchair. I decided to walk about 100 feet up a ramp to my apartment. I needed to stand up at my normal 5 foot 3, and see the world from the angle I was accustom to.
The problem with walking outside is that I can’t feel the ground under me. With shoes on, I can’t feel the ground. It takes a lot of concentration. But today I needed freedom. I swear I feel like a caged animal willing to pay a high price to have someone open my cage and let me out.
The price I paid for about 100 feet is extreme pain in both hips. Both hips have avascular necrosis. I’m having terrible spasms. All of this just to stand up and walk for a little bit.
Was it worth the cost? Yes, for a few moments, walking in the sun, yeah it was worth this.
I’m in bed right now willing a slice of pizza hut over here. Lol It’s in the kitchen. Lol. But I’m writhing in pain. My legs hurt so badly, they’re squirming all over the bed down there. The pain is from the ankle up to the knee then both hips. I really want that pizza though lol.
My little walk reminds me very much of my little painting called Up Hill Battle. I guess sometimes the hill seems small to others but that doesn’t mean it’s not a battle for the person trying to climb it. We never know how much baggage a person is carrying, mental or physical pain. Even the slightest incline can be a struggle when the person walking is carrying a heavy load.
The miniature is complete. I gave it a nice seal yesterday. My intent is to have it in my shop this evening. If you don’t have an Etsy shop but there’s interest, you can send me an email. I accept PayPal. All contact info is on the sidebar.
I’ve been craving pizza for days. I really want that pizza in the kitchen but the price is a little high for me to get up and get it. I’ll use patience. I’ll rest then have pizza later.
It was still a nice day. I love outing day 🙂 Please let this CNA stay. I adore her.
I’ve come to understand the semicolon to represent times when a person could have given up but didn’t. This is a miniature 3 part painting in progress. Acrylic and oil on 3×2 wood piece with rounded corners. This is about half way done.
I don’t feel suicidal, nor did. It’s just that a rather triggering conversation came up about suicide. I just sort of painted through the heavy emotions.
The young girl in the original artwork decided to keep going, to never give up. She made it through the darkest times then took the opportunity to appreciate the small things.
It’s sobering to think that no matter what we do or don’t do, bad things happen, sometimes in rapid succession.
There’s an historic example of a man who lost loved ones, employees, finances and his health in no time flat. When I think about his life before disasters struck, I can see he did everything right, then blam! When reading that account there’s something I noticed, something I missed about it 5 years ago. He asked a lot of questions to help him understand his situation.
This poor guy got a lot of flack from people who should have supported him but didn’t. True help came from an unexpected sourse. But what gives me pause is how the gentleman handled himself during the entire nightmare. He listened more than he spoke. That’s significant for me right now.
I have so much going on with my health that I wonder how much one body and one mind is supposed to take? I’m not alone in piling up devastations.
I’m shocked and horrified by what my friend from the hospital in 2018 has gone through. It’s not bad enough she has Lupus, was on life support, had a stroke, had to relearn everything from being paralyzed to the point she was only able to move her pinky finger. Do you know the fight it takes to come back from that?
She spent significant time in a nursing home which is where we met. After she left and hoped to move forward, she had cancer and needed a double mastectomy! All without the support of her parents, for whom she openly grieves. Really?! Can our girl please have a break, too?
I think I understand even better why it’s best to take life one day at a time. I make arrangements then do day to day battle towards the fulfillment of the arrangements / goals. A day at a time is hard enough. I’m not about to double up on troubles.
As it stands, I’m going to need 2 hip replacements due to avascular-necrosis (AVN), the left is first. I can hardly sleep bc the pain has been high. Sitting can be difficult.
I’m discouraged if not fearful. I don’t want to have a knee jerk reaction to anything but I do want to prepare. I’m so grateful for having a good CNA. Please let her stay!
I’m working to downsize my responsibilities. In addition to selling 5 of my largest plants, I’m going to need to downsize pets before a yet to be scheduled total hip replacement on the left followed by an eventual total hip replacement on the right.
I’m going to rehome my two Madagascar Tomato Frogs as one complete unit. They come with their bioactive terrarium. I placed them on Marketplace and listed the various plant types, hard wood, hides, lights, screen and locks. These were purchased from Josh’s Frogs as early juveniles. They remain healthy at age two.
I hate to see the Tomato Frogs go. There’s no way on earth the 100g White’s Tree Frog terrarium is going anywhere. Don’t even ask lol The only pets being offered are the Tomato Frogs. Everyone else is staying. We already know Joe Schmoe’s place is secure.
Emotionally I feel hopeful about this. I fear having hope that maybe…. maybe with new hips I might walk again. I’m afraid to put my energy into what seems impossible.
As I was writing this, it occurred to me, I shouldn’t feel stupid just because something I hoped for didn’t turn out. For some reason I thought, if I openly hope to walk again but it doesn’t happen, I may feel foolish. And I will have made others hope without pay off for their support. This is wrong. Who wouldn’t hope to walk again? Who? And what friend witholds support because their personal pay off isn’t high enough?
I fear disappointing people. If I don’t walk will I have wasted their time? l honestly feel ashamed that I’m getting ready to put my friends through yet another ordeal. The hip replacement isn’t the ordeal, it’s my blood disorder related to Lupus that has me so worried.
My hope is to listen to the support of my friends without countering it with fear of disappointing them.
I intend to speak less and hear more. I don’t mean silence. I mean that my personal expressions and opinions don’t have to be shared in full, at all times. In my private life, I need to allow others to express themselves more.
There’s a time to speak and a time to listen. If I’m talking to a friend, I’ll hear more and speak less. In a group of people I don’t know well, listen more, speak less. Perhaps by not dominating the conversation I’ll hear the tid bit I need that changes the day from burdensome to manageable.
Subject matter – No details of anything but I do talk about where I am with grief. Very emotional….
I’m all over the place today. Today my CNA asked about K. I basically just said that sometimes young people don’t have enough life experience to fully understand “this too shall pass.” We talked about her children and grandchildren, about life goals and achievements. It was nice. What I didn’t expect to was to have yet another conversation about suicide a little later in the day, online. That conversation felt like it wiped me out. I had a headache by the end of it. I still hope that person is ok.
I’m struggling with concerns about being weird. I don’t know how to change that so that people who are a little more typical won’t run away. I feel like I live a life of secrets sometimes. People in my everyday life can’t know about the Dissociative Identity Disorder. No, most people aren’t able to handle that. Society barely can manage PTSD, they sure don’t need to try to manage the DID. I’d never tell my CNA she has more than one client.
I wonder if there will ever be a space I can share with another human being without fear of being ostracized, without misunderstanding basic human intentions?
I just read that sentence and it occurred to me that I feel alone and lonely.
There are many things that now feel like they fall into the “I can’t” category. I long for adult conversation outside of my apartment, which happens to be an extension of inside my head.
I feel like a trapped animal while sitting in a wheelchair.
Last Monday I talked to Dr D about trying to put away issues I can’t do anything about or that I’ll deal with later. I don’t like the standard way he showed me so I changed it a little bit. He said to visualize putting problems in a box then put the box up. That has worked once for me, but not again, so I changed it a little bit. I have two small treasure chests. One small box holds letters and notes about things I can’t do anything to change. The other treasure box is a little larger and holds issues that I’ll manage at a different time. The two boxes don’t sit out in the open. I put them up.
I have no intention of adding anything at all about K’s death bc it feels like his death is all I have now. I’m afraid to let go of the grief. There are no new memories to be made with him. There’s just grief. If there’s no grief then even the memory of him feels like it will fade. I feel like I’ll fade.
Its odd to hate the grief but still that’s all that’s left. I still see one photo of him in my head. He’s 3. He smiled at me over his shoulder. I think of that photo now and I want to ask him, why did you make me love you if you were just going to leave like that! Why did we survive, what was all that for? I try not to let my head go there too much.
I have a question for him – knowing everything we know / understand now, would you do it all over again? Would you take your life all over again?
Its late. I should eat something. I could use a good meal but that won’t happen until tomorrow.
This painting covers several life events. It is true to the Sundrip style in that there are hidden people and objects, and done in abstract.
I appreciate photographing work in progress because it gives me a different perspective.
The ppainting is busy but it’ll come together soon.
Creating things has continued and it feels great. It has helped with anxiety and depression which right now is pretty high. Dr D has been checking in with me concerning suicidal thoughts. I am too close to that feeling of tossing in the towel.
I’d be lying if I said the figures in here are random figures. I seriously have to work on the bird. Lol
Tomorrow should be a day to celebrate. They’re going to deliver the electric wheelchair. I was approved the first time. I should be happy but it feels like a loss. It feels like a totally different way that I’ll represent myself to the world. I identified with the manual wheelchair. It’s been the only chair I’ve sat in for the last five years. No lounge chair or anything, just this. It took a while to accept how I’d represent myself to the world. I got comfortable in it but now it feels like how I represent myself to the world is changing. It’s so hard to explain what I mean.
In the manual wheelchair I did have to deal with people telling me I should walk and I could be cured. Representing myself as a manual wheelchair user was hard. I got a lot of pressure when I told people it’s not worth the pain to walk. It’s simply not worth it. 19 falls in a year was too much.
I wonder if people will pressure me to use the manual more than the electric? Seriously, who knew that friends would have to accept that I’m not ambulatory and that they’d take it so hard? Now I wonder if the electric wheelchair means they have to get used to seeing me in it.
I can’t express how much being a manual wheelchair user is wrapped up in how I identify myself. Now that identity is changing. I’m feeling like a loss. I hope the emotional transition is smooth. I’m sad right now though.
I’m still taking all meds which is obvious by the weight gain.
Dr D and I talked about how noisy it is in my head. The talking is incessant.
Despite being teased, I’ve started looking for wheelchair ballet. I’ve found several tutorials that I enjoy.
Someone recently told me to stop blaming myself for the nurse’s aides not working out. She followed up by telling me to stop always thinking I’m at fault. That was the company owner. Their last day with me is tomorrow.
I’m pleased to be able to listen to music regularly.
I go in to the dental surgeon about my broken tooth and other dental issues.
The plants here are doing very well. I love seeing new leaves.
Dissociation is regular, with lost time. Arial Little and Ariel Michelle pop out at inconvenient times. It’s noticeable but I don’t address it and they haven’t asked. Joan has been out more than me, Jordan.
Anxiety has gotten so intense that I feel like I want to hold something in my left hand for emotional security. I have a tiny stuffed duck that I’m holding. I use to bring him to therapy all the time.
I’m going out of town in July. Hotel reservations are set. I’m so excited I can’t see straight.
Without friends and family this leg of my life would be too much to bear alone. It’s true that love can heal some wounds.
This last week has been trying. My head tried to take me down depression street. I needed rest from the world so I turned my phone on do not disturb for the most of the day. I’m definitely trying to take one day at a time but there’s so much from yesterday that plagues me today. Today I had yet another tooth that broke off at the gum line. Unfortunately, it’s in the front.
I have issues with dental hygiene because I can’t use toothbrushes. I can’t stand the way it feels in my mouth. The dentist gave me mouthwash but the damage to my teeth is significant. If I had it to do all over again I’d find a way to keep them healthy. How, I don’t know.
I’m painting a piece about loss and finding traction to move forward. This is much larger than usual for me. I’ve been planning a painting where the wheelchair is made of sunflowers.
detail left side
It feels like a piece that is helping me truly let go of some of these things that pain me. It’s no where near finished but working on it has helped me deal with overwhelming anxiety.
My little place genuinely feels like an art studio now that I’ve got a bunch of art in various stages of completion.
SOLD
I’m pleased that my little bag holder doll with glasses has found a home. The glasses were the final touch. 🙂
Joe Schmoe, age 14
Despite the fact that it’s not even midnight, I’m going to take a PRN and go to sleep. Joe and I need a fresher start tomorrow. Better sleep will do a lot to make tomorrow better than today. Let’s just hope I don’t need to go to the restroom every 2 hours like last night.
Dang, menopause is kicking my butt! Is my bladder the size of a pea now? In addition to menopause, my bladder is over active when I’m feeling stressed. It’s helpful to know my symptoms (over active bladder) so I can then respond appropriately; manage stress better, don’t internalize so much.
In addition to snuggling with Joe, I’m looking forward having dinner with friends, at my place, on Sunday.
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.
I’m getting ready to start physical therapy here at home to help some of the healing along due to recent falls. I’m pleased it’s at home. I told the doctor I’m not able to tolerate going to a center for physical therapy because of the setup. There’s too much public activity, noise, movement and touch, for me to be able to think straight and not panic.
The painting shown is still being worked on. It’s one of my collages, which I have found myself drawn to lately. I’ve got many pieces of this and that saved art piece that on their own doesn’t work but added to other cut outs, makes a great piece of art.
This is very indicative of how I’ve been feeling. In my head, I see myself as fractured and torn, both physically and mentally. It feels good to take the remnants of my art pieces (pieces of me) and make something good come out of the broken pieces. It’s similar to what the Japanese do when putting pieces of a broken bowl back together with gold. My goal is to improve self esteem. I also enjoy it.
General updates
Soon iI’ll know a decision from my insurance about a new Jazzy Pride electric wheelchair.
Joe just turned 14. It makes me a little nervous. His only issue is from the stroke. He doesn’t see as well.
Joe is still very much a service cat. He still alerts me to my blood pressure dropping too low.
I learned to make sour cream from my homemade yogurt. I’m growing my own ginger and turmeric inside. This growing season I’ll do spinach and salad greens with grow lights. The point of all this homemade stuff is to shave some off my grocery bill.
My OCD has been raging but I’ve been able to challenge it. Things go terribly if my thinking is too disordered and I’m overly stimulated. When that happens I have to go on an apology tour.
Dissociation and switching has occurred regularly, including switching while my nurse and CNA are here.
I’ve been able to paint as before with no real issues. There’s one painting in my Etsy shop.
Another physical change has taken place that affects my art. I can’t see! Dang it! I have to wear glasses to read or see anything in front of me, including my dinner plate. I can see far away, though. I need to see the eye doctor soon for prescription glasses. For now I’ve got bifocals from Amazon. I like them. Life is easier all around with bifocals.
Interesting is that it feels weird painting through glasses. It feels like I now have a physical barrier between me and what I’m creating. It feels like I’ve got my hands through the holes of a glass panel trying to paint or sew on the other side of the window.
Another new tool at home is this comfy Kaftan. I’m obsessed! I also like that I found an Etsy taylor with prettier dresses for the same price. I’m looking to get two more by this summer.
Kaftan’s are user friendly for disabled people with incontinence. I have spastic bladder as a result of the Thrombectomy surgery, which means I have to change depends several times a day. The last thing I want is to take my pants off several times a day because I need to change depends.
These dresses are fun and they are sooo me! I think I’m loving my Oprah glasses and Kaftans. I have one pink, white and green tie dye and one blue, gray, black and white tie dye. Totally me.
