Hello, It’s me.

That is one of my favorite songs, so easy to listen to, vaguely sad.

“you know that I’ll be with you once in a while…

or if I ever need a reason to smile…

or spend the night if you think I should…”

Very 1970’s. Or 80’s, I’m not sure. Talk about vague, right? Anyhoo, I hope you are all doing well out there, or doing good, whatever the case may be. I am not sure what the proper phrase-ology is there. I’m not too sure of anything these days.

Ever since I told you about entering my sculpture in the art show at the beginning of July, I have been painting furiously. Totally immersed in my paintings of water. (Get it? Immersed? ar,ar,ar….) Did you know that painting water is quite challenging? It’s so fluid, so many crazy ways for it to glisten in the light. A light source that I am unsure of in the first place, so that makes it a lesson in frustration for a painter like myself with no formal training. Little formal training. Thank you You Tube for sites like Mural Joe who helps dummies like myself. So many talented artists out there.

When I was a child I thought I would be the best in the world at everything I did. I don’t know if all kids think that way, but it carried into adulthood, also. Kiko, the world famous Pool Player, Rock Star, Artist, Writer, Equestrian, Drug Addict… Yes, I even thought I would be legendary at that! Strange. Never took into account that other’s were as good as , or better at these things than myself. If they were it was by some fluke, some glitch of fate, Never even considered that they struggled and worked their back side off for their talent. I suppose these types of thoughts are common to people with the mental illness I have.

Speaking of mental illness, mine is kicking my butt. I am now obsessed with my art work to the exclusion of all else, even sleep. The less I sleep, the crazier I get, the more I hurt, the more manic I become, which causes me to unleash my emotions onto the canvas. I have just been praying for a measure of peace, a dollop of sanity to help me untangle my mind and rest.

I know what is motivating me, and it is fear, as usual. It is such a negative force on me. Immobilizes me, like a bunny in the headlights, not knowing enough to run before the car bears down on them. Frozen. I feel frozen inside. Like, if I let myself feel anything I would crumble into icy shards, before drowning in my melted tears.

I am losing Dad. He retreats further away into his inner sanctum, his hearing almost totally gone, his vision seemingly veiled, and looking at vistas that I cannot share. When I speak he only hears buzzing noises that he mimics back at me, like the Teacher in animated Charlie Brown movies.” Mwwa, mwaa mwaa. Mwaa! ” ( Dad, Lunch Time. Dad!) When he mocks me I could just… you know. But now I realize that is what I am like to him, a nagging Mother-figure, someone to avoid, someone to go up against- a threat to his control of his existence. He accepts help, but only if I don’t ask, I just have to wait till he is really struggling.

I must rest now. Goodnight.

Author: ST Martin

I am an Artist, Poet and Author. A Survivor of Violent Sexual Abuse and Rape, I have lived thru Severe Domestic Violence, Twenty Three years of Addiction and Alcoholism, Family Dysfunction, Chronic Pain, Dependence on Opioids, and 2 Venomous Snake Bites...I have Been Stabbed, Shot at, Tied to a Tree and Choked Unconscious. A Quarter Horse Rolled on Me, as did a Lawn Tractor. I also Wrecked a Harley into a Tree! I also have PTSD and Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder, and spent my 18th birthday in a Locked Psychiatric Ward. I am so much more than this: I feel like a tiny seed that sprouted in a desert, and now has grown into a Passion Vine. My Art is my Voice, Screaming, Crying, Praying, Loving, Laughing, Healing- all in Riotous Color...

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