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.
Sunday, 10 March 2013
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.