I had survived the first. That was then; this is now. The blindfold of so many pills slowly died away and first though my finger then my head, a passion, a hurt and a need filled me as every moment was consumed with words; every breath with wisps of...
Please note: this is not representative of every chapter, but as I am uploading the moments chronologically, this is coming first. Drawing was the easiest way to release emotion, but it was also a very painful process. Most of this collection will consist of medium length poems, but these few chapters are focused on drawings.
Chapters like this will be marked with a little star before the title for reference!
It was still Christmas, but there was still time - time before the whole host of every-present swarms of people would surround me. I ran again; ran to feel- as much as my medically numbed brain could anyhow.
I drew this picture entitled: 'Graceless... I am one too if I am not held up'
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Let's get two things clear first:
-One: I can't skate... I had tried not long before Christmas actually but failed entirely. As beautiful as it is, it is an art to master. -Two: I have never drawn a person standing up unless those lumpy year one drawings count; the ones with the x's for a plait.
Although entirely untechnical, this picture at first represented my yearning to fly and to feel free. Gliding on the ice, one can perhaps lose the earth a bit as traction starts to let go of you. But I was not free.
So much more then if my bind to earth enforced. There was a place I had to be in and a role I had to fill... but that wasn't me! As much as I looked as though I kept my head above the water, I was gracelessly and secretively heading towards a fall.
My skill was not there and thus to fly on ice was impossible. That talent was not there and thus to soar on ice was impossible.
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So I had to be held in place by whatever means necessary...be that pills, counsellors, food, fear, family, faith and the little will I had left. The lines there around the skater keep her in place and dictate her every move. They keep her up. They constrain her. - and yet they waver. What if they fall? What if they aren't enough? The ice beneath me is about to crack.
Look at the words there within the picture, 'Where the many graceless take a fall.' Situation dictates emotion and most always response too. If so many others hit a wall here, why wouldn't I? Should I not admit this was the end? ...how much could I really control anyway.
In this last picture, the bright colours. previously thought to show hope and a change for the better, dim. So comes the title: I will become one of the graceless too- one that falls down- if I am not securely held up. It may seem posative, but this picture recognises that I have no strength of my own left.
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Thank you for reading.
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Please comment and vote if you like this! Also, tell me any thoughts or feelings this prompted. Has anyone else ever felt like this?
