i have been to hell and emerged: scarred, humbled and strong.
imagine: 10 years of exercise addiction and eating disorders, eight years between high school graduation and my bachelor's degree (and i had well above a 4.0 GPA), seven razorblade cuts to the wrist, six years of therapy (at least), five types of drugs with which i experiemented, four hospitalizations, three years of teaching, two suicide attempts, and a partridge in a pear tree (or an owl hovering under a full moon, inches above my head). this has been my life.
i'm not born-again, but i have chipped away at the thick shell of self-loathing, self-abuse, shame, rage and despair slowly and consistently. i build up those textures again in my artwork so that they have somewhere to be--a record of a purge that renders me pure and clear again.
no, i'm not perfect or cured or normal or recovered...yet. i am real. i am honest. i have a good sense of my Truth. i have learned that unfastening my cold, weighty armor is the closest i can get to freedom. vulnerability is the path to love, and love is the only freedom--the only heaven--our poor selves will ever know.
are we spiritual beings having a human experience? absolutely.
is the human experience messy, painful and exhausting? yes.
but i have found that i was born into this world with the capacity to sense unsurpassed beauty--so much beauty, in fact, that sometimes i can't help sobbing, overwhelmed by it all. it doesn't matter what i see: the moonrise, a small stone on the beach, a man with so much pain in his body and so much gentleness in his fingers and a story of betrayal in his eyes. it is all beautiful to me.
i eat oatmeal for breakfast. and i spend money on things i don't really need when i am stressed and sad. i am late paying my bills sometimes. i am so joyfully human, so lonely, so resilient, so selfish, so creative, so emotional, so intellectual. so soulful.
i imagine we all have scars. i know we all have stories. the important thing is to tell them. that is how we know we are not alone, not really.
2 comments:
i sense that you have struggled and captured some of that ascent; as wisps of a battle fought in life and in dreams - up and down are often the same - at once.
yes, i fight. and i continue to fight. for myself, for those who can't fight for themselves. as do you. thank you for reading and taking a moment to comment.
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