Recently, life has been hitting me like a bus all at once. It’s like one minute everything is okay and happy, the next I’m sitting in my room alone crying. My anxiety has been the worst it has ever been the past couple of weeks. I overthink everything, I make up every possible bad situation in my head, I try my hardest to keep it together and be okay, but I’m not. The hardest thing about it all is admitting, that, to myself. I don’t want people to worry, I don’t want to think about it because I’m happy in the moment, I don’t want to share because if I let people in, I’ll crumble, hard. Hard, is an understatement. I feel like I’m walking on a tight rope, any wrong move and it will all pour out. My heart is telling me I need to, but I’m not ready. My heart is telling me, the clock is ticking, any minute, any second and I’m done for. I walk with fear in my heart that the timer will go off. I’ve been listening to the voices in my head a lot. It’s not good. I’m my own worst enemy. I’m trying to put myself back together while trying to hold up the ones I love the most around me. My head and heart are heavy, but I’m not ready.
If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that I need to take my own advice. You know? The advice you give to your friends, to talk about it? I need to listen to myself, but the voices are so loud.
I was talking to an individual about my art, how I started, and what it means to me, and in that moment I realized how deeply art has saved me and continuing too. I said,
“If it wasn’t for art, I wouldn’t be breathing.”
Once I said that, it all flooded back. How much art has impacted me, how it saved my life. It sounds dramatic and extreme, but from the bottom of my heart it reigns true. When life becomes heavy to a point where I cannot handle it on my own, I pick up a canvas and pour out. I ball, I sob onto the canvas, every emotion, confusion, problem, fear, anything and it understands. I’m able to focus on something other than what’s going on in my head and feel at peace. Art is my meditation, my healing. If it were not for art, I would keep it balled inside and would never let it out. My head is a mess, a disaster, but on canvas it is beautiful. Art gives me the time I need to pause and think, process, organize and grow. This piece is a prime example of it. I still am continuing to grow and understand the meaning behind this piece even more than I already do.