It’s amazing what you find going through old backups. Apparently I don’t trash anything. Heck, I’m surprised I never imaged my hard drive…
(note to self… time to back up hard drive again)
So I found scanned versions of some artwork I did while in therapy while I was in graduate school.
Since my creative juices haven’t been all that potent these last few days, I decided to post this image and I’m going to try and write about what I was feeling at the time (and it’s pretty close to what I’m feeling right now). This piece was done somewhere around 1999.
I just feel broken inside. Sort of like I’m just falling to pieces. And I have no way of putting those pieces back together.
I’m tired. I don’t know how much longer I can hold it all together. I feel like I’m losing my mind again. I feel like there is no point in fighting what is meant to be.
Once a mirror is broken, what good is it? What purpose do I serve in life? What is the point in living?
The cracks in my life radiate out in all directions. I break whatever I touch. I am a failure.
I’d be best off if I were thrown away. Kicked out to the curb. Nobody would have to deal with me.
I’m working on getting drunk (not that it will take much more to get there). I know that won’t help things, and I usually don’t do it. But tonight I just don’t want to feel anything. I’m tired of all the emotions. Emotions that I just can’t put words to.