I started drawing this Zentangle while I was watching the Ava DuVernay documentary “13th.” Everybody should watch this, even though it’s sad and horrifying and leaves you feeling hopeless and heartbroken. Those of us with privilege – specifically, all white people – need to bear witness to the ways our people and our government have […]Read more "13th"
Text: I had a full-on argument with myself in the mirror this morning. Around 6 weeks ago, I started an activity that is enjoyable, challenging, and that I’m thinking of quitting. The argument went like this: “Why do you want to quit?” “I’m tired. It takes 3 hours out of my Saturday. Getting there takes […]Read more "Selfish"
Text: Friendships can get weird when you’re trying to cope with mental illness. I’ve lost a number of friends over the last year or so – some have drifted away, unable to deal with how different I am; others have been banished outright due to outright hostile or harmful behavior towards me. The number of […]Read more "Friends?"
Text: The fatigue of this depressive episode continues to consume me. I am exhausted, all the time, even when I am anxious and can’t sleep. The mental energy required to get through my average day leaves me out of fucks & energy by 4pm. Bone-crushingly tired. I went to my doctor and talked to my […]Read more "So. Tired."
Text: In a way, Zentangles are a metaphor for life itself. They’re imperfect, sometimes messy. They’re filled with mistakes, which I didn’t realize until I started learning how to do it, the nuts and bolts of the technique. My Google searches turned up page after page of gorgeous, perfect art, something I considered myself incapable […]Read more "Making Mistakes"
Text: I loved this picture when I drew it. In black-and-white it was beautiful, each detail catching the eye in turn. So, I thought, why don’t I make it better? Add some color, brighten it up, take it from beautiful to amazing. In what is sort of a metaphor for my life, I fucked it […]Read more "Metaphor for a Mess"
Text: In January, I learned that my teen daughter – who has an intellectual disability – was touched sexually by another teen with an intellectual disability. At that moment, I felt like the entire world had collapsed around my shoulders. The weeks since then have been a flurry of phone calls and meetings. I have […]Read more "Collapse"
Text: I saw an eagle in a tree as I came around the lake today, and for the briefest of moments, my heart leapt with joy. These moments have been happening, little more than glimmers, making themselves known to me more frequently as the days go by. They do not last, and rarely can be […]Read more "Sparks of…joy?"
I disappeared. I have a tendency to do that, especially when I feel overwhelmed and incapable. I have not been writing my way out of this depressive episode, but I have been able to focus on other things that seem to be nudging me toward recovery. I quit my unpaid, 20-30 hours per week volunteer […]Read more "Abracadabara…"
Holy fuck, it’s 2017. And it’s been more than two weeks since I wrote my first post. More than two weeks since I’ve been able to find a moment for myself, a bit of quiet, time when nobody needs me to be whole and functional. My asshole brain keeps chattering, keeps telling me how useless […]Read more "Take a deep breath, and keep going."