If I should describe my emotional life until now I would think that rollercoaster would be the best name. Or chamber of torture. Or rainbow of ecstasy.
My ability to tap into my emotions has suffered because of my childhood where the main caregivers were actually not providing a safe secure attachment every child needs. I grew up emotionally withdrawn and trying to supress this thing we call emotion developing a disorganized attachment style.For someone looking from the outside it would look like an autistic , cold and catatonic behaviour with bursts of high emotions out of nowhere.A poker face which does not know pain or joy or someone who goes fast to the extremes.People tend to be very harsh and judgemental toward what they do not understand. The irony of the cold demeanour is the fact that underneath there is actually plenty of pain, love, emotion. But it is blocked. The overjoyous childish behavior is an expression of the part of us we would like to be accepted for. But adults who behave like this are criticized for being too childish. Too cold or too childish. Story of my life.
Often I had troubles recognizing my own emotions. It has happened more than once for me to misread emotional clues, mistaking abuse for love or attention for affection. When emotion would pop up, I would be judged for it. "You are way too loud or excited , like a kid. Cut it out" or "Why are you sad and crying, stop it" or "What you feel is of no interest to me". When you haven't had the safe environment where emotions are embraced and accepted, you learn to keep them under the rug until they pile up in a sticky dirt layer it is hard to heal from: trauma.
To compensate for the lack of emotional safety I developed the overthinking mind. Boy I can think. And overthink. And think again. But the key to success is actually action backed up by thinking. Thinking alone is just painful rumination and it can easily turn into a novel no one wants to read anymore, including you.
For many years I searched a means to regulate the turmoil of my emotional universe. Art and books helped me gain a sense of control and peace when the outside world would be filled with unpredictable parenting, bullying and solitude. Now I can firmly say that art was my therapy in order to keep my sanity in times when it could have easily been lost. Only someone who had to cope with a troubled childhood would have the emotional capacity to understand what I try to express.
The overcapacity to think and underability to express feelings followed me in my professional and love life. It reflected in others parts of me I did not know they were so broken. I suffered while I also made others suffer too. The thing is that no one who is sane wants to cause damage to another, especially when they love that person. But trauma is invisible and it pulls you by the strings while you think you act out of your own will.
I can't time travel and change mom or dad although I lost count of how many times I fantasized about it. I can't undo anything as actually this everything contributed to what I am now. There is a lot of solitude when you are like this. This solitude helped me create art and other creative content. It also made me pay a price I did not want: the feeling of being an alien who can't connect with the outside world.
I admit I got burned several times when I handed my heart on a platter. Some people can make a hamburger out of it and sleep like a baby. Consciously or not. Everytime after I suffer a heartbreak I tell myself: see, emotions are bad. You are such a fool.Never again. Stick to your art and roll with it. Who needs love anyway, we all die alone. As nihilistic as it sounds, it was my go to safety boat when my heart would crumble. I was thinking that maybe this is why many painters managed to create: their solitude, their inability to connect, their pain made them find refuge and solace in art. But is a solitary life worth living? I do not hold the answer to this yet as I still have moments when I try to regain faith in humanity. I can also create when I am happy, only that my style is different then. I also have moments when I like to be alone and I am proud to achive things on my own.
I feel I described the entire story I have written above in this watercolor drawing I sketched the other day.
I felt I wanted to just make a doodle without worrying about it being perfect. To just lose myself in the process.
I am still trying to cope with some things in the past which I wish it would have happened. As a part of me screams that I am a fool for continuing to ruminate while others would have moved on long time ago, I now understand that I have to give time to emotions to settle.
I also have to unveil the reality of what was versus what I wished it had been. I often romanticize people, even those who have hurt me , because I return back to that trauma, wishing it would have been different.
I am now aware that when we heal we stop this self harming emotional behavior, especially when it comes to past lovers.
For the moment I realize that taking a little orchid with me in my trips abroad had a more significant role than I thought.
I was worried it would not survive alone at home while I was away. But that was a convenient lie.
I am aware that it was a way to carry with me an object which would make me feel closer and yet far away from a particular moment and person in time I idealized.
I could throw the flower and try to escape from the past. But I know better now.
I feel that healing is a process which can't be rushed because of the immense amount of new information which will come up to the surface. I am sure we would not be able to handle the ugly truth that we were not loved and that we clinged to an illusion if we weren't emotionally prepared to let go. I realize that everytime we cling on to the past we try to give another end to the story. But it is all in our mind. The reality is there to see and yet the broken heart will cling on to other dozens miniscule fantasy reasons why it might be different.
I titled this drawing "My brain". But I feel it might be yours too in some moments. I am learning to feel compassion toward the inner me who is healing . I know it takes time, wherever I am and whatever I do.
The biggest reward for doing this work, despite of it looking like masochism, solitude, hurt and loneliness, is the gift of the present moment and the better emotional patterns for future relationships. Although I am strongly anchored in remaining single and just focusing on my art, I am more self aware to realize this was my best coping mechanism. Developed to protect me. The thinking brain. But what protects you from pain also isolates you from love and connection. Therefore being vulnerable while also maintaining strong boundaries and standards is my new goal. I don't have a deadline for when I will achieve a better me, I try every day in small steps.
What I do know is that this drawing depicts a lifetime of thinking while feeling is what I now think we came on this Planet for. To explore the depths of my soul, even if it brings joy, tears or laughter, that is the journey of a lifetime.
