It’s a start…

I had held out hope for a miracle recovery, but it does seem I need to earn my way back from all the horrors I experienced this years.

Well, I don’t really have proper PROOF I’m now starting to break out of the spiral - in the “going from 100 feet down a well to 70 feet down a well, when I was 30 feet down the well a year ago” fashion - but I’ve started to have physical therapy sessions where my trigger point treatment is getting THOROUGH, and may finally be clearing accumulated disaster tension for my recent Botox injection to finally be allowed to its job.

One aspect of how broken I am is that my force of will to create art and work is still there. I am literally so malpractice’d I’ve lost nearly all quality of life. If I get even a sliver of a window where pain receptors aren’t 100% full, I reflexively start drawing or doing chores. My ADD is a benefit here, cuz I’m so blasted and lacking of focus, I’m definitely not in control! The real me is still under there, and waiting to be released. (The downside is I’m so desperate to work, I can easily overdo it when I get a window and cause some real damage. That’s why I didn’t get over the hump last year, when I was soooooo close!) Now, even with me underneath all the damage, I’m rusty as heck. I’ll be slow and clunky for a loooong time, even in the best scenario, but I’ll take it. Despite being forced to the life for years, I don’t know HOW to sit around and just watch TV! I hate it! I like working!

So, after getting Botox’d, even with all the knots PT still hadn’t started on, a very tiny window opened, and I used it.

“Fancy Feast” sketches are perfect for right now. These are ink and colored pencil simple drawings on the dividers from Fancy Feast cat food boxes! Because the cardboard isn’t gonna be quality, and will have can dents, there is no worry over perfection. I have had awful anxiety issues, so a path to forgiveness is vital. These dividers on their own are just… trash. I can only improve them!

Rusty me is, again, slow and clunky. But the premise means a little roughness fits the concept. You’re supposed to see the construction lines of the initial sketch at times, and anything labeled “sketch” means there’s a looseness to it. Colored pencil is a great medium, as there’s no reasonable way to color a flat field with it. It has to be expressive! All these little imperfections end up propping each other up. These sketches are pure bonus, marking me achieving something beyond what I should be able to do in my current state. (It’s truly unforgivable that my EASILY TREATABLE condition was botched this badly, but that’s my reality.)

And I’m glad I have a few finished now. It’s momentum. Because I suffered so much from collapse and tragedy the prior few months, I spent a long time tired and cranky, and compensating for new limitations in ability meant spending a lot more money than I should have - especially with inflation taking a big chunk too. I’ll have to figure out a fundraiser one day, and I intent to use these sketches when they’re done. (I can’t do commissions. Brain can’t focus and fear of blowing it spikes anxiety. So I let my hand go on autopilot and hope my few remaining fans and friends like the result.

I don’t know what I’ll do for a fundraiser yet. I’ll probably do a book bonus deal then too. I’ll need help, so I couldn’t keep my store open just in case. I gotta arrange that help for a promotion, then do all shopping in one day.

So this is me looking at my grim life and trying to plot a path to stay alive. I’m harming my family by taking and taking, and that sucks. I can’t ever offset it, but I sure can try for better karma. We’ll see how that shapes out. Me making any promise would be insane. Look how long it took after Botox for me to find and voice a flicker of hope!

What sketches should I color next?

(I am not going back to reread or edit this. I apologize for the 1000 typos, autocorrect sabotage, and sentence fragments that were accidentally left in after I rewrote a section.)