I have, for most of my life, suffered from some pretty bad anxiety and panic attacks. The doctors believe that it’s the result of some childhood trauma, some crap that happened when I was a kid that I just can’t get over. It’s like I’m still there, reliving that trauma, all my fear and flight mechanisms are firing at all times. There are times, many actually, that I have been able to push those feelings to the back burner. They haven’t every really been gone, just sitting there, simmering and waiting for the moment that they can spring forward again and send me into a tailspin.
For the past few years those issues have gotten to the point that at times they’ve been crippling. I’ve laid in bed, curled up. Unable to sleep, unable to get up. Just lying there, thinking, full of fear and full of hatred.
But then I started to draw again. I noticed that when my anxiety was flaring up, that if I drew something, concentrated on the lines being created on my page that the anxiety lessened.
These past few months, since I started drawing and painting, that not only has my anxiety lessened but I cannot really think of the last time I woke up in the middle of the night, gasping for air, feeling like I’m dying.
Now, I’m not saying that working on my art has cured my anxiety, panic attacks. What I am saying is that it sure is helping me to feel more like a ‘normal person’ and less like a broken or defective person. Not good for much, and I certainly haven’t been whining about poor little me.