I've wasted a lifetime of talent. What kept me from pursuing art? Occasional scribbles throughout my life hint at why. My subconscious had been keeping secrets to "protect" me. At age 50, EMDR therapy revealed that an uncle had sexually abused me from age 7 to 18. These self portraits materialized 4 to 30 years before this discovery. Some include grooming phrases that the uncle used on me.
"If your parents find out what you did, they'll throw you away."
"Keep your goddamn mouth shut."
"You're nothing."
"You're worthless."
Wincing and screaming. I cannibalized my own work. I had no hesitation in hacking off pieces of the paper.
Child me. Adult me. Why are we together? When are we ever apart?
Another distant stare. He had his camera pointed at me.
I was watching a kite to take myself out of the moment.
This disorienting self portrait was taken during another disastrous career turn.
Keeping my hair short was a subconscious tactic to keep men away.
My alluring wardrobe was baggie khakis and thrifted boys t-shirts. Want to buy me a beer, sorry, allergic to hops.
As a young adult, weekends that should have been full were empty. I occasionally drew self portraits to remind myself why I was alone.
"Your eyes are too small, deep set and close together. The bridge of your nose is too short. Your lips are too thin. The space between makes you look like a chimp."
Patterns of my emotions make up this art school self portrait. CONFUSION spirals around my head. I'm CONFINED, encased in TENSION and surrounded by DEATH. Having NEVER dated, nor having close friends, I have distant, MYSTERIOUS eyes. PAIN encasing my head foretold 30 years of debilitating migraines.
Everyday, I push that boulder up the hill, expecting it to crush me.
Chronic anxiety knocks my brain's executive functions offline.
Since my body and brain never leave fight or flight, I've had immense energy and exercised for hours everyday. Insomnia followed.
Depression now drains me of energy.