Two Paths

Acrylic on canvas, 2012, 20" x 16".

Not knowing where either path is actually heading, but only knowing that one path is positive (blue, river) and the other is negative (red, blood). Going through the grass these paths cross many times. It is easy to fall off one and on to the other. Positive can become negative and negative can become positive. Not knowing the destination only increases the confusion. I guess this is a pretty good description of life.

Losing Control

Acrylic on canvas, 2010, 14.5" x 14.5".

At the time of painting this I was struggling with being taken over by somebody else and I was losing control of my entire identity. 'Me' was becoming more and more distorted as I became a smaller part of who I was. Hence the circles becoming smaller and more distorted. I don't remember why I chose the chess board design for the background. Perhaps I just thought it looked good. A simple more abstract design seemed to fit what I needed to express.

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As an update from where I was a couple of weeks ago when I wrote my last post, things still aren't that good but I am trying to keep going in the hope that something better has to come soon. Motivation still is a big issue which just sucks.

I hope everyone reading is ok though.

Searching for something...

But what, I don't know any more.

It doesn't seem appropriate at this time to post a picture or a poem. But I felt something had to be posted. It seemed at one point that 2013 could be a year of hope, but so far no hope has materialised. I have felt lower than I have for years. Nothing makes sense any more. Trying to escape the negative influences on my life in the hope of finding more positive ones seems so pointless as they always find their way back. I have put up boundaries against family (who are the worst people I have ever had the misfortune to come across) yet they are always walked all over. I have tried desperately to rebuild my life only for it all to fall apart again. Friends try to help but completely miss the point I am making. I haven't even been able to paint since January. Something has been missing, at least since Christmas.

The end of March was when I gave up drinking, back in 2007. Yet I don't see any point in caring about staying sober. It isn't that I want a drink. I know what a disaster my life was becoming back in my drinking days, that it made my depression so much worse. I just don't want to feel. Drink has always been my go to when things have gotten too much, which is why I can't drink. I am frustrated at always maintaining the status quo when I just want to get out of here onto somewhere I can be accepted for who I really am. Alcohol took me to a different place, not better but just different. And different is what I need.

I don't know where I can go from here. Nowhere even begins to appeal. I just want to be anywhere but here.

Bending Time and Reality

Acrylic on canvas, 2010, 15" x 8".

This painting is inspired in part by Salvador Dali's 'The Persistence of Memory' (1931). I have always loved Dali's work and surrealism is a style that I often feel inspired by, especially when trying to express past delusions through art.

Back in 2006 when I first got ill I used to believe that I could control time with only the power of my thoughts. For a couple of months I didn't know it but I was slowly running myself into the ground. It was good at the time and very useful to be able to control time, especially when it came to completing my assignments (I was a student at the time). But it all had to come to an end when I had no more energy. I came crashing down into a pretty bad depression, hence the black thought cloud. It wasn't until shortly before painting this that I had made that connection. Never again did I have a 'positive' delusion, but instead only paranoia. Though looking back from where I am now I realise that there was nothing positive about running myself into the ground in this way.

There is no significance in it being 2:30.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

Acrylic on canvas, 2012, 12" x 15.5".

A lot further into my recovery I could see more hope. I was more willing to trust the world that by this time I had entered. It wasn't so bad after all. Every day meant climbing further out of the tunnel and towards the light that was reality. At the time of painting this I was on my way out of a mini episode and settling in to a higher dose of medication. Things were difficult but the hope was coming closer. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Prying Eyes (14/12/2010)

They look with intent, and they can see
All that lies within my inner soul.
Surrounded by constant prying eyes,
They are everywhere.
Hidden cameras watching our every move.
The only place to hide, inside a toilet cubicle.
No such thing as freedom.
Privacy remains non-existent.
It's not paranoia when they really are out to get you.
Tormented daily by the reality I see,
All that I am aware of.
Even my walls adorned with faces,
They are everywhere.
It is only their way of spying on me.
There is nowhere to hide -
Faces imprinted upon my walls, even in the bathroom.
Ever prying eyes remain my enemy.
It's not paranoia when they really are out to get you.

Coming Home

Acrylic on canvas, 2011, 15.5" x 18".

At the time of painting this, I could see a better world in the future. However I was uncertain whether this new world I could see was actually real. I was experiencing a lot of confusion at the time and this was probably the peak of that confusion. This painting represents punching a hole through everything I knew and planet Earth being on the other side, a message of hope.

Apologies for the issues with the photo. The words that seem to have fallen off the side are 'Anxiety' and 'Being watched'.

Update and a couple of poems

Well things aren't too great right now. My mood has dipped. I am frustrated. I just want to be alone. My motivation isn't too great much of the time either. Then I'm just more frustrated. I had hoped that come January I would be feeling better, but this has just dragged on and we aren't too far off February. Hopefully soon a positive change will come.

At least I have my painting, that thankfully I am still enjoying. I am in the middle of one at the minute.

But for now I will post a couple of poems that I wrote back in May 2011. That was a time of great confusion, very early on in mental health treatment. The poems I have chosen express how I felt at the time. They are on a similar theme so it made sense to post them together.

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Hologram (8/5/2011)

I am an hologram.
I no longer exist,
Simply made of light,
Only there for him to project his thoughts onto.
I don't know why he did this to me.
What is this 'me' anyway?
I know who I used to be
Before I was taken over by him.

I am rebuilding myself -
Rebuilding the truth, who I always was.
Blocking out the endless mind control,
Who'd have thought
It could be medicated out of existence?
He tried so much to take over me,
But no more will I allow him to succeed.
I am not an hologram.

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Searching (11/5/2011)

The muddled mess I'm in...
Confusion never goes away.
When will I ever find the truth?
Constant worry,
Fearing what is next.
I can see in the distance
A better future -
A world without conspiracy
Or persecution.
But is it real?
How can a drug induced feeling be real?
Losing the plot,
In search of a better world.
How will I ever know?

Muddled

Acrylic on canvas, 2010, 16" x 20".

This is actually a self portrait, but with a difference. I can't remember for certain what I was so confused about, but I can imagine that it was either what was what following the insomnia induced worsening of my psychosis in 2009 or it was the way I didn't feel a part of this world. Or maybe a mixture of both?

Confusion is a feeling that particularly gets to me. Even though I feel the most confusion when on the way out of a bad episode. The time of feeling most confused was when I first went on the medication I take, but eventually after about 6 months things started to seem clearer. Little things, especially numbers and maths, can still get me feeling confused. But thankfully I am no longer feeling so confused about the world around me. So at least that is progress.