Comments on: How do you work around a long-term or chronic illness?

By: Victoria Pendragon

Thu, 23 Jan 2014 13:47:09 +0000

In reply to Lin Collette.

(((HUG)))

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By: Victoria Pendragon

Thu, 23 Jan 2014 13:45:50 +0000

Very grateful for you and your blog!
It’s (obviously, I suppose) so thought provoking.

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By: Alyson Stanfield

Thu, 23 Jan 2014 11:32:44 +0000

We are all learning here. I appreciate your contributions, Lin, Victoria, and Laurie. I know things can be misread and we are sensitive.
I’m fairly certain that you want only the best for one another. I don’t want anyone to be afraid to share their experiences here. Please don’t let this keep you from contributing in the future. Someone, somewhere will benefit.
Very grateful for you all.

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By: Lin Collette

Thu, 23 Jan 2014 03:24:55 +0000

Victoria – thanks for being kinder than I was. Your words are beautiful, and I will remember that last quote from your teacher. We are all part of one another and formed by our interactions with each other – and that quote was a beautiful way of saying it

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By: Victoria Pendragon

Thu, 23 Jan 2014 03:22:07 +0000

Laurie, my heart aches to think that my comment caused you pain. I meant no judgment of your words, just to provide another view as we are all so different in this world, so different in what works for us.
Your words may be the perfect ones for someone out there… mine, for someone else. I would not want you to take your words back, they are filled with the integrity of your experience, the essence of what has made you who you are to this point.They have value.
Remember… if I brought in my words to bring balance to yours, mine must not stand alone either!
As one of the many wonderful teaches I’ve had used to say, thank you for being me.

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By: Lin Collette

Thu, 23 Jan 2014 03:18:02 +0000

I did not say, Laurie, that your words were dangerous. What I said was “Telling people to avoid things because it can be dangerous – I question that.” This was in answer to your words “For art students, professors that feed on ‘The Great Art of the Traumatized Artist’ can be incredibly dangerous. This was my experience.” My reading was that you were advising people to avoid such professors – and I extrapolated it to mean avoiding anything that might be dangerous. Even avoiding anything that might provoke depression.
I will apologize in advance for saying, simply, this is BS. EVERYTHING can trigger someone to experience a relapse in symptoms. I had a major PTSD incident 18 months ago because I heard a very innocent song on the radio which brought me back to a bad time. Does that mean listening to the radio or music is dangerous and should be avoided?
Everyone’s experience is different and you and I are no different. In YOUR life, your experiences have taught you that you can only create that which makes you happy, and that’s fine.
My experience, and that of others, is that I have to live a life that combines both light and dark in order for ME to be healthier. Would that life be right for YOU? Probably not.
But I did not say your words were dangerous – only that I questioned them. And I am sorry you chose to read into them something other than what I actually said.
As for the person who felt your words needed to be balanced – that was what she needed to do.

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By: Laurie

Thu, 23 Jan 2014 01:50:19 +0000

My heart aches to find that one might think my words need balancing, or might be dangerous. I’m sorry. I rarely make contributions to discussions online, but I stumbled upon this one and I wanted to give my advice because I’ve been through the trenches, and I know that when someone feels alone in mental illness, they need all the support and encouragement they can find. I’m always glad to find another person who has overcome the same monsters that I have, or at least learned how to live with them! I tried to find a way to delete my contribution, but unfortunately once you post something, it’s stuck there.

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By: Lin Collette

Wed, 22 Jan 2014 19:38:37 +0000

In an earlier post where I introduced myself, I mentioned that I deal 24/7 with severe mental illness. And I hear constant noise, not quite voices, but noise. I am currently dealing with (and hopefully coming out of) a severe depression that, while it didn’t inhibit my ability to do things (because I’ve trained myself to keep going) it affected EVERYTHING in one way or another.
I am very comfortable with darkness just as I’m comfortable with light. My problem has been that I lived excessively in POSITIVITY. My insistence on everything being ‘fine’ kept me from seeking treatment for over 30 years. My ignoring my mental illness kept me from having a full and good life. Sure, I accomplished much – I got a master’s degree, had a good job, but my relationships were, well, abnormal. I lived in an abusive situation, blah blah blah.
Contrary to what some people in my life think, I don’t dwell on darkness but I live with it. It’s part of my life. It’s part of who I am. Yes, I was traumatized, yes, I suffered. And I don’t and WILL NOT avoid it. I work with it, more in writing than in art. The art that I’ve made in an effort to deal with darkness seems too contrived and stereotypical. Maybe someday I’ll be able to make art that deals with the darkness around me that is truthful.
The work that I do make and publish is, I admit, very positive and happy. But I don’t do it to avoid dealing with that which ails me.
My attitude is that whatever works for you is great. If being relentlessly positive and only focusing on what makes you smile works, fabulous. If dealing with darkness and facing it head on works, that’s fabulous too. Telling people to avoid things because it can be dangerous – I question that. Sticking my head in the sand never worked for me but got me into more trouble. But that’s only my opinion and not a prescription for how someone should live their life. For me, facing my demons head on and having a conversation with them works.
And that’s my story and I’m sticking with it.

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By: Victoria Pendragon

Wed, 22 Jan 2014 19:22:24 +0000

Just for the sake of balance for Laurie’s post, I used my art as well,to explore the remarkable darkness that lay within my mind after the return of many traumatic memories and did so with excellent result. I was in therapy at the time but did the art on my own, reporting the results to my therapist whenever it threw me into a trance-like state.
Working with the art, both from the standpoint of re-creating sensations and experiences, was at times so overwhelming that it threw me out of my body, but then that was exactly what the abuse had done, so it was no surprise. It was a potent and powerful experience and I one I wouldn’t recommend without professional support, but with it… it did wonders.
After quite a few years, I gathered up the dark work and, in a ritual I devised, burned them ceremonially. In retrospect, I’m kind of sorry that I did. I couldn’t have known at the time that I’d get to a place where I was a spiritual counselor/self-help author or I’d have used some of them for my website. I have found that sometimes, for some people, facing the darkness head on is the only way to get to the light.

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By: Laurie

Wed, 22 Jan 2014 18:21:45 +0000

I experienced crippling mental illness as a result of becoming too submerged in art that brought out my unhappiness with life as it was. Sadly, I stepped away from doing art for years as I dealt with the issues through therapy and initiating life changes. I learned that when darkness comes, it might be best to avoid doing anything dark in your art, because it can feed the illness. Allow yourself to reflect on something that brings joy and puts a smile on your face. If your art can be a healthy therapeutic outlet, do continue, but if it’s feeding the monster, it’s time to take a different turn. Be careful about who is advising you, and how much stock you put in their opinions. For art students, professors that feed on ‘The Great Art of the Traumatized Artist’ can be incredibly dangerous. This was my experience. Allow yourself to put value in painting something that is ‘light’ and puts a smile on your face. If I’d allowed myself to embrace a change in my art, perhaps it could have been a comfort as I seeked help instead of a ‘bad place to go.’

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