Anxietybeast

I promise that I don't start every blog post with the intention of delving into my own oddball psychology, but heck, somehow it manages to assert itself anyway. So please forgive me for all of my random babbling on the subject!

The creepy little thing that has wriggled around inside of my brain for several years is now trying to take control of my consciousness! Anxietybeast is a ravenous creature, and yet all of my positivity it devours won't fill it up. It's a bottomless pit, and sometimes I have no food to give it. Let's just say anxiety is draining. Exhausting.

What kinds of things do I think about when I'm anxious? Where do I start? Myself, of course, and my shortcomings. That's at the core of the problem. I worry about how other people see me, if I have offended someone without knowing it, having to leave the house (social anxiety is the most painful of all)...you name it, it worries me. My anxiety has caused me to let people down as well, as sometimes I panic at the idea of leaving the house to make appointments. It is a hindrance and it might just kill me.

As a Buddhist, I have been practicing detachment from my Self; according to Buddhism, things like anxiety are the result of a self-cherishing mind, the negativity resulting from attachment. But no matter how hard I practice, my body's chemistry, in the end, is what controls my creepycrawly anxietybeast. My serotonin levels are way off to begin with, hence the funtimes associated with depression. Ever since I became unemployed a year ago, my anxiety has continued to build. I have been stuck at home for months, fueling my social anxiety, and being unemployed has seriously damaged my sense of self-worth.

So, even though the beastie is gripping my brain and not letting go, I am trying to pry its claws off of me enough that I can function like a normal human being (well, semi-normal, normal is boring!). Making art always helps, it gives me a sense of accomplishment. Medication is an option, but from my experience it doesn't always help...I hope some glimmer of inspiration will come my way and I can slay the anxietybeast for good.

Make ART. It will save your life.

Lately I have been unearthing skills I had buried through lack of use, namely my artistic talents. Once I switched from art to English major six years ago, I allowed my artistic eye to atrophy enough that I forgot many techniques and some mediums vanished entirely from my repertoire.

 

Then, a few months ago, an odd penchant for painting cropped up, quite by accident, and took me by surprise. One watercolor spawned a series, and I only ceased painting once the ecstasy of creation died down enough for me to realize, "Hm, these aren't as good as they used to be." Good enough for some, maybe, but for me? No way! So the watercolors and acrylics were put once again to bed, but on the couch this time, for the occasional spark will ignite my right brain into action and I have found easily accessible paints to be useful. I even plan on taking a watercolor class at my alma mater this autumn to further hone my craft and feel confident enough in it to finally have an art showing.

 

In the time in between the brush and the canvas, I have taken up an even older hobby of mine--decoupage collage. In a quieter time before the death of dialup, my babysitter taught me how to cut and paste pictures from magazines onto boxes and strips of cardboard, creating a tableau with glossy cutouts and the ubiquitous jar of Mod Podge. Not really having any medium suitable for collage, I grudgingly sacrificed the cardstock backings that have kept my little comic book collection tidy for the past few years. Alan Moore will have to forgive me.

 

So, what is next? After I underwent spinal surgery this February, I took up, at my twin sister's insistence, needlework--crochet in particular. Since the first gasps and death rattles that accompanied the birth of my first potholders I have crocheted a few scarves and mismatched wrist warmers ("They're charming, really!" is what I tell myself) and recently started a few Game of Thrones-themed scarves. House Stark is very nearly finished, and a commission for House Greyjoy is underway. The nice thing about crocheting is that I can carry around my yarn and hook in my purse and whip them out whenever I am feeling bored--at the dentist's office, while watching telly, or on a tedious car trip. It passes the time, and crocheting and knitting are known to be beneficial to one's mental and psychological well-being.

 

It needs to be said that before I began knocking out artistic endeavors like baseballs in a park, I made a change in my medication. Thanks to the fun quirks of genetics, I have a constant companion called Depression, and very much like in the commercial for Abilify it tends to hang around like a little cloud, just behind my consciousness. Yeah, not really fun at all, more like annoying. Thanks to my depression, I often don't really care enough to do anything other than lie around and act like a turtle. After my back surgery, and the cessation of pain medication, I started taking Abilify, and my GODS it has changed things! One of the first things I did was take tie open my bedroom curtains--where before I was content to hide like a badger in my dark hole, something in me now needs light. This little Goth is still getting used to Vitamin D cravings, but so far I haven't recoiled, hissing, in horror (yet...). Alongside my newfound respect for the burning ball of gas and plasma came an itching to *do* something. Now, still being in the clutches of post-op recovery it isn't feasible for me to start heavy exercise, but I at least have been taking my Australian Shepherd, Penelope, on walks by the river. She loves it, and I've enjoyed spending time with her and getting back into sync with Nature.

(Photo: Me, Penelope, and a Snow Tiger!)

 

I'm hopeful that my talents will only continue to flourish, and I make sure to practice every day with at least one medium, be it paper, painting or drawing (I also write stories a bit...more to come on that front). If things hold, perhaps I will submit my art to be in a Final Friday gallery in town. That is, if the artist in me thinks they're good enough!