Gasping for Breath. Oil Sticks 25.11.21
Drawing with oil sticks, projecting lines from a photograph taken at Ashdown.
It was a window of time, away from the chaos. The view was frustrating me because I felt like I was looking at something unobtainable. My health has been a worry, and I honestly do not know what the future will be. My depression has changed, because this is now my body showing a sign that it might not survive. When depression is at its worst, I do not want to die. I just want the pain to stop. However, as I sit here now, it feels like God has intervened. I can no longer look forward, or even hope for better. I can not plan an escape route, because, I seem to have accepted that God has decided to take me. Yes, this is a spiritual moment. God seems to have played the ultimate trump card. Instead of trying to help me have a better life, he has decided to take me, That s all I can see, as I sit here. The turmoil from life continues against the backdrop of this personal fear and agony, as I think about my own mortality, and speculate about how much time God will allow me to have, and how I should spent it.
Grabbing at Time. Oil Sticks. 25.11.21
Here, gasping for breath
Warm stillness, then the cold wind
Here grabbing at time.
I made a simple sketch with a graphite stick in my poetry book, and this drawing made in oil stick was developed from that sketch.
The bipolar has ravaged my life, and I am forever trying to find ways to live with it, and make something of my life. Right now though, any thought of making something of my life, seems pointless. I would still like to talk about bipolar and not feel guilty about it, but however terrifying it can be at times. That terror has reached a new level, I am almost numb. Terror seems to be a waste of time. I feel beaten.