I have never been this personal with my artwork. The closest has been in my sketchbook, but as I was up late into the night one evening drawing another piece out I realized I received therapy from it and perhaps it’s time for me to come clean. I’ve had my apprehensions about ever posting this series and explaining the reasons behind it, but up until recently I also need to learn to not hesitate. So, bear with me.
It has been two years since I was able to get rid of something that was weighing heavily on me, and since then I have honestly been fine. I survived it and I could carry on and even openly talk about it and express my concerns when I heard about other people in the same situations. While several of my friends knew what I had gone through because they witnessed it, there are other people who do not know exactly why I struggle with doing things any other person could normally do. Up until the last several weeks, I have been alright-really happy even-and then somehow a wave of anxiety crashed against me and it has been ongoing for a while.
I have been struggling with this inner turmoil and insomnia, and I was trying to figure out why I seem to be in such a state. It was until last week I drew out some reflections and realized it’s because I have never completely washed myself of what I thought I had left behind those two years ago. It has been hard for me to let go of it and the fear comes back up when I meet new people. I have admitted it is why I am scared of certain relationships, and even the relationship I hold with myself has been uneasy.
To hear people say emotional abuse is not real or is not as serious puts me in a bad state of mind, especially as someone who experienced emotional, and even sometimes physical abuse, for about a year and a half. I had the revelation that it does have its after affects on my relationships with other people and even myself. I go back through the ongoing list of things this person always found wrong with me and I wonder if other people think the same thing. I wonder how I appear to people I just meet and if he was right all along. I never had a voice when I was with him, and I was continually told that my feelings were “bullshit”. Eventually when I was nearly done with everything, I picked up smoking from the stress I dealt with and it even served as a form of rebellion for me against him.
At one point, I finally could walk away and the minute I made the decision, I was happier. The feeling was indescribable, and I really am okay now. I am still careful, probably too careful, and I still don’t have confidence with a few things. I am still scared of relationships; at one point I didn’t even believe in them. I am always quick to apologize even it is not my fault. I’m dealing with anxiety now, but being able to come clean and get the emotions drawn out on paper has already been therapeutic.
So now this is shared with you all, and I just needed to get this out somehow.