A life with an unstable mind

Honestly I didn´t know what was happening to me but soon I understood that my drawings connect me to the reality the illness wanted me to avoid. My dad was far away the love of my life and the divorce notice was worst than my broken heart for a man that didn´t love me enough. Imagine life without dad was a hell for me. I denied it. My mom couldn´t stay strong longer, but she did, for me. I was an entirely month in the hospital and when I finished drawing landscapes and flowers I started drawing other patients. This was the huge discovery for my recovery. When I draw Blanca, a beautiful woman in her older ages taking sun in the grass, somehow I connected with her and I could feel what she did. Later, I discovered she came from Venezuela after being a very important model in her country. What happened to her was drugs. She took more than her brain could resisted and she stayed in another dimension, disconnected from ours. After, I draw an old man that was sitting in a white chair tied up to keep him controled and without danger of damages if he falled down. And I started playing bascket again and my attention started to recover from my own breakdown.

I wish I could share with you some of my pictures in pencil and colors but I have always paint for giving the work to someone else.

This is why my first psicoanalist, Dr. Ruiz, has a toy drawing by me in his consultory and Sergio, another psichiatris had a picture of an eye tree. I say and I tree because it was made with those circular candies on a blue landscape and his patients started saying: Doctor, someone is looking me in that paint. My son pediatrian has three, a dog, a cat and a boy playing with his dog. The funny thing is that many mothers ask who did the paintings and he loves saying that was my son. I do not batter, I never sign my drawings, they could be from anyone.

What I was saying is that painting others, made me realized my problems were actually small and that I won´t loose dad and I still have a life to build.

The worst part came when I was out and I had to study in the university again and a classmate was absolutely lack of compassion saying “What is she doing here, wasn´t she crazy”.

Remember I had 17. Many friends left me. They were scared of me probably. But I keep each absence like a tear in my heart.

I had to start telling my self no matters who knows or not. I was alive and I will be strong enough again.