Screaming Internal Head Monkeys would make a great band name!

Summer breaks really suck honestly. Like, they suck ridiculously massive sized bowls of dicks that are sucking other bowls of dicks, which makes for a disturbing image that now is probably going to haunt my dreams later. Let’s just say, there is a lot of sucking happening here people!!

For my summer art progress, I have managed to so far make one small fluid painting, and two color pencil drawings that helped me practice with the medium a bit. I’m now working on a Fiona Apple image that goes with my Tori Amos one I’m so in love with. I’m now, more then ever, convinced that I will need to get a studio outside the house that I can treat like a job that I go to because I NEED to not be just stuck here, mentally or otherwise. Better lighting, more space, and most importantly, OUTSIDE OF THE HOUSE!!!

I’ve got a bit of the Screaming Internal Head Monkeys today. I want to scream but its only going to freak out the dog and frighten the neighbors. Whenever I’m depressed AND bored, it becomes this toxic cocktail for my inner monologue. I feel like peeling my own skin off because its just twitchy and feels like its got things crawling around inside it. Body image issues blossom into ever so delightfully annoying mean girl voices singing a chorus of all the ways in which I suck. And finally, a cherry on top of this, I have too much mental energy that’s wrestling with my physical energy which feels like a 100 ton pound boulder chained to me.

So, to provide a visual representation of what my Screaming Internal Head Monkeys are making me feel like today I give you this:
giphy

Stupid asshole brain!! Just kinda want to randomly throw things or smash something. *sigh* Having ADD and depression fucking sucks, people!!!

I’ll be starting a new medication tomorrow. Yay. I have been taking Wellbutrin for several years now but noticed it wasn’t working as well. So my doctor decided to add Lexapro to see if it will boost my mood up a bit. Three months later and it hasn’t helped any. So I’m weening off the Lexapro and onto Cymbalta to see if that will help any. Was a bit annoyed to find out that my current insurance doesn’t cover my Adderall, so I’m going to be further off of it until next month when my new insurance starts. Then I can refill the prescription without having to pay over $100 for it!! (Oh, and go fuck yourselves Big Pharma and Insurance companies. You stink.) I also had to find a new primary physician because my previous one moved to a different office which has a membership fee of $149/ year, which I didn’t see as worth paying for. So found a new doctor closer to me and we shall see how she works out. I really liked my old doctor. She was so damn easy going! Oh well, maybe this one will be just as nice.

On a more happier note, I get to Lilymonster in almost a month. AND she gets to have grandma and grandpa time!!! I can’t wait to see her be the ball of joy that I love her for. Even though it’s only for a brief few days, seeing Mom having ALL of her grandkids around her will be worth it. I wish I had time to show her Star Wars or Labyrinth or something like that, but I don’t think it will work out. Another time I suppose! I just can’t wait to hug her and see her. That’s my joy at the moment.

I can’t figure out how to end this. I don’t have any kind of witty way or glitter bomb to drop that leaves this on an up note. So instead I’ll quote Bob’s Burgers:

“I was gonna hit you, but I’m holding wine!”

 

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The worst Oscars life reel would be mine.

I know this might be shocking but I’m crazy. Not “oh cool, the aliens in my toaster are repainting the walls again” kind of crazy, but the kind that still warrants keeping an eye on oneself. I think of it as being more like a jigsaw puzzle that is frequently put together, missing a few pieces, or has pieces of another puzzle mixed in. Recently got diagnosed with ADD, which runs through my family like lactose through the intolerant. Whenever our dog Daisy goes bonkers, we say that she’s got “head bees”, so in a way, I’ve got my own head bees. As well as head goblins. To put it simply, the inside of my head hovers between the chocolate room in the Wonka factory and Silent Hill on a rainy day, with random useless knowledge popping up like VH1’s Pop Up Video.

Recently during my usual struggle with my brain’s refusal to shut up when its time to go to sleep, I wandered over mentally into my memories. Memories of how long have I really been dealing with this bullshit. So here’s where it gets personal people!! Prepare for the realness!! This list is kind of crappy when you think about it, but its just what it is. I’ll admit that it will make for the WORST “this is your life” reel for the Oscars. Feel free to skip it if you don’t want to know. I’ll understand. It’s lacking in glitter ponies so I can’t really blame you for skipping it:

  • At age 6, I was bullied for my glasses and my emotional sensitivity. I begin hating what I look like.
  • At age 9, the first time that voice tells me that I was worthless, and that no one cared about me. It was the first time I felt invisible.
  • At age 11, I heard the whisper to be dead.
  • At age 12, my household started getting………..different. I began experiencing anxiety issues as a result of many of these shifts, as well as the toxicity within it.
  • At age 13, I hurt myself for the first time. Small scratches, but enough to trigger a mental sense of relief when I did it.
  • At age 14, I become involved in a physically abusive relationship, later sexually assaulted. Not much longer, my first suicide attempt. I try to slit my wrists at school. My mother’s response was, shall we say, inappropriate. I never told anyone about the abuse or the assault until I was in my thirties.
  • Between ages 15-18, whatever it took to numb myself emotionally. Dabbling in drugs and always believing that I meant nothing to no one.
  • At age 19, I came close to committing suicide again after a painful breakup with yet another emotionally harmful relationship. Had the pills in my hand, but a letter from a friend made me laugh so hard I cried and I didn’t stop crying for a few hours which got me to pull away from the edge.
  • Age 30, after dealing with some other issues I reach my mental breaking point when I locked myself in my bathroom to prevent myself from punching my fist through a window in order to cut my wrists open. I finally decide to seek therapy.
  • Age 37 diagnosed properly with ADD with chronic depression and an anxiety disorder.  Medicated and therapy becomes part of my life.

See! The audience is now all uncomfortable and desperately wants to sneak out to the lobby to get some M&Ms or popcorn. My therapist recommended to me years ago that talking openly about my struggles helps take the shame I associate with my craziness. She said that asking for help is the strongest act I can take, so saying to people, “Hey, so yeah I know that most of the time I’m all rainbows and shenanigans, but underneath all this is a scared little girl that thinks that everyone hates her because she cries, so I could really use some love right now otherwise I might just walk over to that edge and not stop.” I guess this is why I love Catherine Tate’s Donna Noble from Doctor Who. She put up this facade of snark because deep down she believed that she was worthless.
17522897_1336657633055591_8966408900149772778_n I frequently find Hubby and me having this very conversation. Made even more amusing that he has a doctorate so he’s my own Doctor. Minus the Tardis of course. But he reminds me that I am, for him, the most important person in all of the known universes. Once again, The Doctor saves me. Only its my doctor. Have GOT to figure out how to get him to make me a Tardis. He’s smart, so I’m sure he could figure it out.

So the voice has started up again recently, whispering lies, and I push against them. Its exhausting sometimes. But, I push on. Numb, but push on. Lather, rinse repeat. I’ll get my glitter back again. The sparks will fly and the chocolate factory will overflow with delights. Great, now I want candy! I might need to hit a candy store this weekend. Get me a big ass bag of diabetes!! Candy glitters people. Just go with me on this.

Winter break update

I haven’t had a chance to do any writing recently but I’ve finally got a moment to get some of the buzzing around in my head out.
First a quick school update:
Hooray! Another semester is done and this blog can go back to being about my normal shenanigans. I am beyond glad that this semester is over because the stress it caused me along with the crap fest that 2016 was made going to school feel like a trek through the Swamp of Sadness. Only 2 more left until I have my degree.

Now, onto the State of Strange Child:
Ugh. 2016 was such a royal bitch wasn’t it?! Losing John so suddenly was difficult as being so distant I felt helpless. I wanted to jump on a plane and run out there to be there for her and her daddy. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t even make it out for the memorial because of school. The depression from the summer break didn’t quite go away either. It lingered like a fart in the air. I was constantly feeling like a failure and that I was grasping at straws to get stuff done. I got B’s in both of my general ed classes and it STILL bugs me that I see this as a fail. I feel like I busted my ass in both of those classes yet I didn’t excel like I normally do. (Stupid ADD brain) That’s another thing that’s getting to me. I may need to have my meds adjusted as I feel, …….off. I want to do a billion things, but don’t have enough time to get it all done. So many art projects, cooking ideas, exercise I need to do, books to read, movies to watch, etc. Just not enough hours in the day. Plus Hubby will pout about missing me.
I really miss being able to have weed too. Ever since that horrific experience in February, I’ve stayed away from it because I’m terrified of it happening again. But I desperately miss that warm glowing feeling it gave me that allowed me to just relax and be in the moment. I would feel so happy and carefree. I get that way when I’m buzzed on booze, but the hangover is horrific. With weed I wake up the next day totally chill and ridiculously well rested. Hubby is annoyed that I haven’t gotten my card yet. Says I just need to “vagina up” and do it. He even told me about some mobile app that would allow me to do it over the phone. I am just terrified of doing it. I know its easy, and that its not that big of a deal, but the thought of me having to go into one of the offices to get one of the cards paralyzes me for some reason. I  just want to feel that moment of fuzzy happiness where I just don’t give a shit about anything other than laughing and having something tasty. Hell, when I had some while Hubby was away on business to help keep me calm while I’m all by myself I’d draw up a storm! I’d throw something on Netflix on, sit on the bed, draw while sort of paying attention, and then look up to realize that it was 2am. He’s going on another trip soon. It’d be nice if I could be able to have that again.

I should write here more often I know. Especially about my art. I have gotten better with my painting. This semester I learned how to better do the fluid painting so I’ll be able to play with that more efficiently where I’m not blowing through paint like before. I also learned how to do transfers so now when I draw something, I don’t have to try to recreate it again onto the canvas, I can just trace it with transfer paper! Saves my mental health so damn much learning this!!!!! Also, I learned how to do digital collages in Photoshop! Oh sweet Chuck I love doing those!! I will need to learn more about Photoshop so I think I’ll try to find some sort of tutorial book so that I can really get good at them. Next semester I’m playing with ceramics again so perhaps I’ll be able to make some cool things there too. For now, I’m working on a 4 painting series of the four elements: fire, water, air and water. Got them all drawn onto the canvases and ready to paint. I hope to have those done by the end of next week. I’m hoping to do at least one drawing every night that Hubby is gone to keep my skills up. I feel like I’m slacking in that area right now.

A new year. It already is going to be hard considering the state of the US being run by an orange shitgibbon with a super sensitive ego and congress of jackasses. But then again, maybe we need this shit fest in order to better ourselves. Who knows. I just want to make pretty things, watch Star Wars, laugh, and learn new things.

The Very Bad, No Good, Terrible Summer of self wreckage & art comes to a close

This summer has been an interesting and soul searchingly hard one for me. Interesting in that I’ve spent most of it being depressed, lonely, isolated, and trying to make as much art as I could. Interesting in how I had to drop the plans of transferring to a different college to finish up my degree because it offers more studio art classes, yet the cost of the school was way beyond my financial reach, even with assistance. Interesting in that I went to gym more then I usually do and not one pound fell off my fat ass.

The Soul Searchingly Hard part was my therapist helping me accept that being without a job and/or school means I’m without a purpose which leads to me beginning to spiral. Add in isolation from not having any sort human contact, and my brainmeats turn further inward with a laser-like focus on every single one of my flaws completely the Spiral of Self Destruction that I am so unbelievably talented at! Seriously, I win the gold medal in this sport!

So where does that leave me as this summer comes to an end and another semester is set to begin at the end of the month? It leaves me feeling a bit of the weight off my shoulders in that I know another of my limitations and have a general idea of what I need to do to fix it. I have at least these last two semesters left to complete my degree, which should be this time next year fully graduated with a BA in Studio art with a minor in Art History. Provided I factored in all of the classes correctly. We’ll see. And in July I’ll be working on my parents 50th wedding anniversary party right after school is done, so in way, I’ll have a job right out the gate to work on for 2 months. After that? That’s where things need to be planned out before that in some fashion.

Hubby suggested that I have two options for myself at that point. I could find any sort of job, even a part time one, and do my art on the side like a hobby. My paychecks can be 100% used to pay off my school loan, making the debt go down faster than it might if I wasn’t working. He expects to be making more then he is now so we’ll have a bit more coming in that we can also look into me renting a small art studio outside of the house, where I treat it like going to an office every day. I could even look into sharing it with someone. There, I’m not worrying about doing damage to the place too much like at home, which means I can go crazy in the place. I could even find one that will let me bring Daisy with me, so she’s getting out of the house during the day, and there wouldn’t be anything there that could distract me like the TV. He tells me that he doesn’t care what I do, as long and I do not do what I’ve been doing………..ripping myself apart internally until I break.

For now I just make things, get through my next semester, dig through the bullshit in my brainmeats to find the good, learn new things, and live life. One of my most recent paintings I did was inspired by most favorite artists Vincent Van Gogh. I didn’t draw it out first, I was messy with painting it, and I concentrated on my love of his art in my mind while I worked. I’ll fully admit, Doctor Who is what got me more interested in his work. But it was in learning about him that I found a connection to him as person. We see the world in similar ways in that the world around us is beautiful, even in the most simplest things like sunflowers or the night’s sky. A few days, I’ll be standing in front of his most famous of works, Starry Night (1893) and I’ll probably break down crying while I stare into its mastery. When Van Gogh painted that image, he was in the asylum in Saint Remy, after having cut off his ear in a hysterical fit. A fit which many including myself theorize was brought on by Paul Gauguin’s perceived “abandonment” of Vincent when the two’s friendship dissolved and Paul left town. He wasn’t allowed to paint at night in the hospital so he worked during the day based on memory of the previous night’s sky. Vincent wrote letters during that time about how he much preferred how the night sky looked, how it moved, how it glistened with life much more than daylight. That painting is Vincent Van Gogh’s soul at that moment in his life. To see it in person,……………I will most certainly need a moment people. So, I did a painting to pay homage to my beloved Vincent:

van gogh

Hubby was gobsmacked when he saw it. He actually said, “Don’t be offended, but I think it’s your best one”. There was a small part of me, I call her Veruca, that was irked a bit by him as she was all “So you’re saying the rest of my stuff is crap, eh?!” But I kicked her and she quieted down. Of all the paintings I did this summer, I’ll admit this is my favorite one. I want to try to do more like it. I signed up for the painting class this semester so we’ll see how that goes. The interesting part will be along with that, my other studio art class is a conceptual one. I’m hoping that during this semester I find a bit more of my artistic voice. I need it right now.

So once more, I find myself crawling out of my own wreckage. I am almost at the point of dusting myself off and straightening my hair bow with a sense of “I’m gonna rock this bitch” attitude. For now, its me gearing up for our vacation trip to see Lilymonster this week. Art, food, and love. Oh, and I might get lucky and get into a taping of the Daily Show!!! Tonight however, I get to live out a teenage missed opportunity. I’m seeing Guns and Roses live tonight! \m/ !! Small things of joy allow for the bigger things to come through.