Sunday, October 3, 2010

Artist BreakThrough

Hello again newborn baby blog. I fully intend to post on a more frequent basis, its just that this past week I’ve been dealing with/attempting to come to terms with my Diagnosis.
Then something truly profound happened. I had an Artistic Breakthrough. Now, things, thoughts, ideas, heads, energies, tides, winds, everything, is shifting. Its amazing. Some artists wait their whole lives for the coveted Breakthrough: the major realization you come to within yourself where suddenly it becomes very clear what you want to say and how.

Here’s the story of Mine:

I have felt so defeated. I didn’t want the Diagnosis to be true. I had worked too hard, journaled too much, prayed too often, for this to happen to me too. I was raised in a house with my mother’s Borderline Personality Disorder as a proverbial landlord; I know first-hand how horrific it is. And here I was, the apple right off the tree.
I thought about how long and how hard I had been running from BPD, and I immediately felt tired. I give up, I thought. It’s done. It’s true. I’ve BPD and I’ve had it and I’ve been in denial and its gotten me nowhere with it except deeper into a cycle of self-induced misery.
What would happen if I stopped all the running? What if I stopped the numbing and the constant struggle to rein in my emotions and the unending battle to regulate my moods and sleep patterns and eating habits and exercise and all those things that “Fitter Happier” Radiohead song says we should be?
Cos I’m already who I am. There’s no more denial, no more dancing around it.

The picture in my mind became very clear.
Who I am:
An art student with a deep affinity for all things Victorian. A sufferer of Borderline Personality Disorder AND a practicing Buddhist. A traumatized girl with an ache to express even just a morsel of the emotions that take over, to exorcise them through the arts, to relieve them just a bit, so they don’t threaten the heart they belong to.

In a subconscious search for empathy, I found myself listening to the entirety of the Who Killed Amanda Palmer album, and I realized: she’s done It. She’s captured the ability to channel her pathos and chaos and emotional upheavals, her struggles, her traumas and all her pain into compelling, sensitive, dramatic Art. And bitch does art of all forms. In my aesthetic. Using words from my diaries.

I felt relief.
Because yes, maybe I’ve BPD, but maybe It has something to offer my Art, which combined with my Self, can offer Beauty. And isn’t that one of my reasons for living?
It looks like this video:

But its not easy. Apparently my Psyche took this breakthrough as an opportunity to let my emotions finally run wild.


Now that I’ve stopped running from BPD, its in full force. I’ve anxiety about anxiety and I’m not sleeping much.
But I'm just trying to observe the BPD, coexist with it for now, to see what it does to my Art.

Along the way I’ve discovered some great artists (like Tasha Tudor- brilliant woman!) and music and books and clothes that I can’t wait to incorporate into my life more and share with you.

Thanks for sticking around. This ought to be an interesting ride.

Current mood: exhausted.
Current music: the dresden dolls - girl anachronism.

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