Tag Archives: depression

Write or Draw or Paint?


Let’s hope no one was holding their breath after my last post because that was quite a long wait. I’m sorry for that. I hadn’t intended to take a hiatus. In fact, I had intended to write more! Instead, I fell into a funk for a couple of weeks and did not feel like posting anything.

If you follow me on Instagram, you’ll see that I have not been completely devoid of creative output. I decided to revisit the One Zentangle A Day book and do it all over again.

2ndyrtangle0

I’ve also decided to revisit Downton Abbey. I stopped watching it a couple of years ago after the tragic death of Sybil. I knew there’d be more tragic death to go through, but I decided I was already feeling rather low so might as well indulge myself in misery.

My evenings have mainly consisted of sitting on the couch and drawing while Downton plays in the background. Clearly, this leaves me with no time to write.

2ndyrtangle1

Dave recently began working second shift, which means that he is not home in the evenings. I don’t think this has been the cause of my mellow emotions lately, but it probably doesn’t help. I’m sure it is a combination of the darkness of winter and the fact that I am on the edge of a virtual precipice. (So dramatic…)

2ndyrtangle2

I’ve mentioned in previous posts that I feel like I am ready for a change. I can’t yet share what that change will be, only that I am not entirely happy where I am right now. I can either steel myself to carry on and soldier through the current situation, or I can make the effort to change the thing that is really dragging me down lately. And once I’ve made that change I will tell you all about it.

firstzendalatile
This one took a long time! Like, four episodes of Downton Abbey!

As much as I am always talking about change and embracing change and blah blah blah, there is a great part of me that also wants to just dive under the covers and avoid anything that is going to be difficult. I find that the more I push myself out of my comfort zone, the easier it gets to try new things… but conversely, when I let myself start slipping back into the comfort zone I find it harder to get up and get back out again.

I am ruled so much by my emotions. I guess that was obvious when I said I didn’t write for the past two weeks because I didn’t feel like it.

I’ve read that people who are dedicated to becoming writers make time to write every single day, whether they feel like it or not. Same as artists who paint or draw every day, whether or not they’re in the right mood.

Pretty much the only thing I do every day regardless of my mood is basic bodily functions and important grooming tasks such as teeth brushing. Everything else is entirely subject to whether I feel like it or not. I’m not sure if that’s anything to be proud of.

In other news, last night my coworkers and I went to a paint bar in West Hartford. It was supposed to be a group outing/team building sort of moment, but half our group bailed. Whatever!

In case you live under a rock, a paint bar is what it sounds like. A painting studio with a bar. Artists lead the group in making identical copies of a painting that has already been created by someone else. Wine, beer and snacks are available.

Being a trained artist, I was a bit skeptical going into this, though I confess I was looking forward to blowing my teammates out of the water with my mad painting skills. However, since the two people who I had intended to impress ended up not even showing up (painting is for losers!), that was a moot point.

The painting we were to do was this winter scene with a snowman standing on it’s head, with stick legs popping out of his bottom ball. Ok, it is kind of cute, though probably not something I would have painted if given another option.

snowman
Did you know that snowmen have legs?

I’ll admit that I did have fun doing it, I mean, of course I did. Even though it wasn’t original art, I still enjoyed smearing the paint around and everything. The paint was really low quality, like, crayola or something, so it didn’t behave as nicely as I would have liked. But I guess I can’t have expected them to break out the professional stuff.

In the end I decided that it was fun, especially for people who don’t have an art background. You get to create a painting in two hours while you drink wine and hang out with your friends. The instructors were nice and helpful. Obviously if painting is really your thing, you have to put your ego on the back burner and just know that you will not be creating a masterpiece.

Painting was never really my favorite creative outlet. But doing it last night reminded me that I *do* enjoy it, when I give myself the time. Maybe I will try my hand at it again this year. The last time I painted anything was in 2009, when my boss at the time commissioned me to paint his beloved dog, Bully.

Bully done
Bully, 2009

 

So in the end, perhaps it is good that I don’t always feel like doing one thing or another – I certainly don’t have time to write, draw, watch Downton Abbey and paint all in one day!

Thoughts on Bullying, Part 1.


Every Friday morning, NPR airs a short segment called Story Corps. I often catch it on my way to work. Last week, it was a story told by a father whose 14-year-old son committed suicide after being bullied relentlessly. In recent years, there have been a lot of stories of kids killing themselves after being bullied. My heart goes out to these kids and their parents, of course.  But this past week’s story got me thinking about bullies and the effect their victim’s suicide has on them.  Does it make them stop bullying? Do they even realize how their actions have so drastically affected someone else’s life?  Do they even care?

"I just don't fit in!"
“I just don’t fit in!”

When I was a kid, there were bullies at my school whom I avoided as much as I could. Even now, my stomach sinks to think of how insecure and helpless I felt in their presence.  At the time, I didn’t give much thought as to why they would be treating me the way they did.  I took the burden of blame on myself.  I was an unusual looking kid with a funny little voice, so I accepted that they had reasons to make fun of me.  Of course I wished they would find some other way to pass the time, but I just assumed they were wholly mean and bad kids.

Now that I’m an adult I am aware that oftentimes bullies are bullies because they’ve learned this behavior as a way of raising their social rank, to make up for their own shortcomings and insecurities.  They bully to establish dominance and control. They’ve often been bullied themselves. So I wonder, if a bully’s victim commits suicide, does the bully feel vindicated because it proves (to them) that the person was weak and worthless? Or do they suddenly realize that the kid they were always picking on was actually a whole person, with feelings and potential, and had a family that loved him?

I tried being a bully once. At recess one day I noticed that a chubby Italian boy was wearing a football jersey with the name Meatball across the back instead of his last name. I poked him and jeered “Ha-ha, it says Meatball because you’re fat!” totally failing to grasp that that was the joke. He raised his eyebrows before rolling his eyes and walking away. While I’d initially felt an adrenaline rush for having stepped out of my comfort zone, I was left feeling like a jerk and definitely did not gain any power from the interaction.

Whenever I hear of a bullying-induced suicide, I think back to my own experiences and how, no matter how much crap was dealt, I never felt compelled to kill myself. I certainly did have days of feeling worthless and despicable. There were a lot of times where I would feign illness in order to stay home from school so I wouldn’t have to deal with another day of being told I was hideous, freakish and unlikable. I was fortunate to have a stable home life and siblings who loved me for who I was and who never looked at me with disgust because of my physical appearance. I was also lucky to have friends outside of school who were able to see past my outer appearance and who appreciated my wild imagination and sense of humor.  And while I was at school, my wild imagination kept me company even in the worst of times.

So if you are reading this and you are a victim of bullying, please hang in there. You can grow up to be so much stronger than your peers because you have put up with this. Don’t let other people determine your worth. Remember your strengths and keep pushing ahead with them, whether it be academics or art or music or sports. Do what makes you happy, and be yourself. There is so much more to life than what happens in school. It’s hard to realize it now, when it seems all that matters is who you sit with at lunch, or that your clothes have the right label. It may seem like an eternity before you will be out of school, but one day it will come and life will open up to you. In the real world there is a place for everyone, and thanks to the internet, you can find people all over the world who are “just like you” in one way or another.