Art Therapy Part 2 (or how I don't seem to have done it)

A couple of months ago I wrote about how I had intended this summer to be focused on working through trauma that I've resisted dealing with.  For decades I didn't even admit that the trauma existed, let alone the situations that caused it.

I never wanted to admit that I had endured years of abuse from my father,  abuse that extended into my adult years.  I always felt that I deserved what he put me through,  that I was a stupid, incompetent person (I won't say what he often really called me) incapable of making my own decisions and certainly not worth anything. 

Never mind that I

• Won numerous academic awards in high school and belonged to honor societies
• Wrote for my local newspaper at 16
• Have two bachelor's degrees in history and English
• Hold a master's degree in religious studies
• Have held responsible,  high stress jobs....

Yet, because my father drilled my stupidity into my head, I never felt any of this was important.  In fact, I often would sabotage myself by making mistakes in one way or another.
I don't really want to get too involved in talking about the abuse here just yet, but I have been trying to figure how to work this out.  I've been afraid to really get into what emotions I feel.  

If I even have emotions when it comes to this.

Because I'm afraid I am all too clinical about this.

And as usual, because I am clinical and rigid and...whatever... I was compelled yesterday to 'research' what art by abuse victims is 'supposed to look like.'

Like this, according to Google...

And other similar things.  And I found some fantastic art that didn't seem to be 'about' abuse

(I couldn't find the name of the artist who did this)

And yet I recoil at doing anything that is directly related to what I went through. I would start to collect things that's related and it would sit.  And sit.  And sit.  Gathering dust and cobwebs, as I continue to do my usual collage work.  Unable to really think of doing anything else.

Which isn't a bad thing.  People love the silly collages and the more pensive pieces.  Nothing wrong with that.

But why can't I just let loose and feel like I'm accomplishing something wonderful?  A couple of my friends can't understand this, can't understand why I can't play.

It's a question I can't answer, even though I try to play. 

Someone else did tell me that if I get enjoyment out of what I normally make, then it's therapy.  

But I can't help but think I'm supposed to be doing something else.

Am I?

later,

lin

It is Finished

No, silly.  Not the blog.

I'm done with the Day Hospital program I started on May 29 to try to get me back in the groove.

Day Hospital (also known as Partial Hospital) is where you are in a mental health program for a portion of the day but go home at night.  For many it's a step-down from inpatient hospitalization, for others it's a stand-alone program that one does if they're unable to deal with acute psychiatric symptoms on their own.

I am glad that I reached out early in the development of my own acute symptoms and asked my psychiatrist for a referral sooner rather than later.  The program was useful to me in bringing me out of the chaos my emotions had become.

It was also very useful in that I finally had an additional diagnosis that I'd known I'd had for several years - but which my providers disagreed with.  The new diagnosis, in addition to Bipolar II and PTSD, is Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), which you can read about here.  

Many psychiatric health providers are uneasy about trying to treat BPD patients because they can be more unstable and demanding than other patients.  Some providers won't treat BPD patients at all.  My own therapist has said to me that I didn't fit the profile because I was too nice and sensible (well, sometimes).

But that's OK - she'll get used to it.

So now that I'm done with intensive day treatment, what's next?

As I mentioned in my Sabbatical post, I'm planning to take time off from running the actual Etsy shop although I'll still be doing maintenance tasks.  I want to make this time for me, to deal with things that came up during treatment through art and to make art that I won't necessarily sell anywhere.  I'll be sharing a lot of it with you.

Somewhere along the way I lost the sense that making art should be fun.  I'm hoping I'll rediscover that sense of fun.

Two photos that I found on the Crafts Report Facebook site remind me of just that:  

The first makes my point and plan quite clear - 

But most importantly - 

And I mean to rediscover just that.

later,

lin