Maranda Russell's Blog, page 76

Art and Music Snobbery

I met an art snob yesterday. People like that really get to me. I understand that views of what is “good” or “bad” art are very subjective, and everyone has the right to their own opinion on the matter, regardless of whether others agree or not. However, when I meet someone who believes that their personal views on art are perfect and they refuse to even allow room for argument or debate, it makes me frustrated and honestly makes me want to never talk to them about art again.

I feel much the same way about music snobs. Like most people, I have definite preferences when it comes to music, and there are artists and bands I personally find much more talented and introspective than others, but I never understood the need many seem to have to “shame” others for their musical tastes. I have eclectic musical tastes myself, just a few days ago I was in a Marilyn Manson mood, and then the very next day I was popping in a Carpenters cd. But if I suddenly want to listen to 90’s boy bands, Katy Perry, or the Hannah Montana soundtrack, I’m going to do so without feeling guilty.

Abstract Paintings Inspired by Toys

The following two abstract gouache paintings were inspired by toys of all things. This first one was inspired by a random grouping of McDonald’s Shopkins toys (sort of like a toy still life painting):

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And this second painting was inspired by a Gingerbread-themed rubber ducky I won from a claw machine at the arcade:

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Both of these paintings and other artworks are currently available at my Ebay store!

My Dead Sister’s Birthday

Today would have been my sister’s 41st birthday if she hadn’t committed suicide back when she was 35. It is really weird now because I am 35, so I am the exact same age she was when she died. For the first time ever, I will soon be older than my sister ever was. I won’t be the younger sister anymore…or at least that is how it feels.

Last night I didn’t sleep well at all, I had nightmare after nightmare after nightmare. None of them were specifically about my sister, but I can’t help but wonder if subconsciously the feelings I have about her birthday rolling around might not have affected my state of mind. Honestly, I didn’t even think about it being her birthday until a few minutes ago when I looked at the date on my computer clock and it hit me. Of course, this time of year I often think about her, but I am not good at keeping track of days. When you don’t work outside the home, it is easy to forget what day it is.

I’m sorry if this entry is a bit of a ramble, but I have so many mixed emotions and still so much pain about it all that it might not come out as orderly as my normal posts. Days like this really get to me, even if I don’t consciously think about them. It is like a lurking shadow hanging over the entire week or month. I’m sad today and now I’ve remembered why.

Flaking Out Due to Sickness

Yesterday I was supposed to go to therapy, but I was feeling really sick and ended up calling off. Whenever I have to do that, I always end up feeling bad, like it is my fault that I have these health problems and often have to cancel appointments or activities.

Honestly, nowadays I don’t even schedule much of anything outside of medical appointments because I would rather not plan anything than have to feel like I’m letting myself or others down if I’m too sick, depressed, or anxious to go. It really isn’t a fun way to live, and it frustrates me. I often feel like I’ve almost given up on living a normal life and that saddens me.

On the plus side, I am fortunate to have a supportive husband and still have a place to live and food to eat even though I am too sick to work a regular job. I really don’t know how people like me make it without support, especially since it can often take years to get any help from disability. If I had tons of money, I would spend it helping out those who are in similar predicaments, whether they struggle with autism, mental illness, physical illness, or a combination of all of the above like me.

Hounds of Hell Painting

I love the way this abstract acrylic ACEO painting turned out! It was a pure abstract, no subject in mind, but lo and behold, when I was done, I saw what I like to call “the hounds of hell” within its image. Do you see it?:

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This piece is currently for sale on my Ebay store if you would like to check it out!

Art for Bad Mood Days

Having a bad day? Just want to tell the world to F-off? Let a painting say it for you:

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Ironically enough, I actually wasn’t in a bad mood when I painted this small acrylic picture, I just thought it would be rather funny to combine the naive, childlike art style with a wee bit of apathetic swearing. As of right now, the original is still up for sale on my Ebay

Feeling Torn in Half…

Last night I had a really bad panic attack. The situation that triggered it is a complicated one that has me feeling rather torn in half. As I have probably mentioned before, my husband is a special education teacher. He is extremely devoted to his work and his students and loves what he does. This past Monday, he found out that one of his prior students, a girl who is now 19, needs a place to stay. My husband would like for us to take her in. I am really conflicted about it.

My husband and I used to do foster care, so I’m not unfamiliar with taking in strangers and looking after them, but the reason we had to quit foster care was my deteriorating health. That worries me about taking in a new, adult person who has both emotional and developmental issues. It also worries me because we recently downsized into a much, much smaller house and the autistic side of me is deeply worried about having no privacy or time alone which is essential to my well-being. Plus, I don’t know where we will move all the stuff that is now in the extra room.

On the other hand, I do feel deeply for this girl who has been through A LOT. My heart aches for anyone who already struggles with physical or mental disabilities and then has to add the weight of being abandoned or alone. She is living my worst nightmare in many ways and I can’t help but feel compassion for her. However, having never met her myself, I also worry about whether we would be a good fit or not. Often, that is something you just can’t tell until you live together, and if we do take her in, there is a good chance we would need to keep her at least a couple years until she graduates school and is moved into some form of independent living housing.

I feel so conflicted and anxious.

Suicide Isn’t My Biggest Fear

Recently I had kind of a weird realization. If you follow my blog closely, you probably know that I have written posts about how I fear I would be driven to suicide if I lost my husband, mainly because I fear I wouldn’t be able to support myself with all my health problems, and if I lost him I feel like I would lose 90% of my support system.

The other day though I realized something that rather shocked me at first, even though it may not seem such a big thing to others. And that realization was that my real fear isn’t that I WILL commit suicide if I were alone, it is my fear that I WON’T. Maybe that sounds crazy on the surface, but let me explain further. If my husband were to die, that would leave me utterly alone, and I honestly do not believe I could continue to live this life all by myself. If I found myself in that situation, I would have to either A) Give up and commit suicide or B) Find others to trust and rely on.

Option A isn’t my real fear, it is option B. I am terrified of trusting others and letting others in. I don’t trust my ability to choose people who will not take advantage of me or end up abusing me. I feel it is almost a kind of luck that I avoided marrying an abuser in the first place. Most people who grow up like I did, in horrific abuse scenarios (physical, sexual, emotional, or mental) tend to end up surrounding themselves with people who perpetuate the cycle of abuse. I also fear that if any of my past abusers are still around, if I found myself all alone, I would be so weak that I would turn to them. Which horrifies me more than anything. It took me a long time to get free from it all (and I’m still not 100% there), but the thought of returning to hell is far more frightening than the thought of death.

However, deep down I doubt my ability to actually take my own life. I do have a strong survival instinct and an immense amount of anxiety when it comes to any form of danger. Perhaps that is why I always told myself that if I did commit suicide, it would have to be a form that is instant and leaves no chance for reconsideration, because I know if I gave myself time to rethink it I would freak out and seek help.

So, with this odd realization, what is the point of it all? I guess it is some reassurance that maybe I am stronger and more resilient than I always told myself. But more importantly, I need to work on my fear of opening up to and trusting others. It is funny that here on this blog I can be so open and bluntly honest, but in interpersonal relationships I tend to build walls and push people away before they can get too close. Somehow I need to learn to trust myself to be a good enough judge of character to give people a chance. But I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to trust myself, let alone others.

Whales in My Artwork

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I’ve done several abstract whale-themed artworks over the years because I simply love whales! Especially killer whales! I like the way this gouache ACEO painting turned out. At first I wasn’t thrilled with the almost translucent quality of the blue over the red, but over time I’ve grown to actually like the effect. This piece already sold and has found a good home, but I still wanted to share it

Psychiatrist Says, “Have More Fun!”

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Yesterday I had the most fun I’ve had in a long while. Being chronically ill doesn’t allow you to do much that is just pure fun and silly, especially when being unable to work also makes you chronically poor. However, yesterday I pushed myself a bit and my husband and I went to a local family fun arcade. We played video games, pinball, and silly carnival-style games. It was a blast. By the time we were done, I was sore and exhausted, but it was worth it. Even though I woke up feeling like I had been run over today (after sleeping about 13 hours), I wouldn’t change a thing.

At my last psychiatrist visit, the doctor encouraged me to “have as much fun as possible”. I guess he could tell that it was sorely lacking from my life nowadays and it seemed like he was pushing it as a possible antidote (or at least a brief reprieve) from the crippling depression I deal with every single day. Because of this, my husband and I are making an effort to find little ways to include more fun and silliness in our lives. It may not “cure” anything, but it does help improve my mental outlook at least a little bit.

* Art by Maranda Russell