Unsafe

I was watching a commercial this morning that got me thinking as to why it makes me so uncomfortable. Its about young couples in the act of romantic marriage proposals. Trying to put myself in the womans place, I found it hard to really believe and trust those feelings of being taken care of, of feeling safe. Ive never had anything that resembled that in my life, either through my parents or in my own life. There was nothing I wanted more growing up then the that fairytale life with a man who cherished me, was responsible, who held a job, who wanted a family with the house and everything else that went along with that scenario. A man who had a reason to get up and go to work, me. I wanted to be that reason to my dad, and later to my husband. I wanted to be someones reason for doing their best in life, because they cared about my welfare, my safety, my sense of innate security, that every child, every adult has a right to feel. I thought the sky was always falling because it always did.
This ties into art because I wouldve probably started an art career early in life. I probably wouldve gone to college for art. Do you know why I didnt? Because I was too busy surviving and that life would have made me feel unsafe. I didnt have it in me to work full time at a job and get an education. I would have had to do it all on my own. It just didnt seem as important to me then, as I was busy surviving. I tried to be practical in my choices of earning a living, and art didnt fit, depression the bill. I would learn to make nice pictures and then what? Its the same problem I have now. I make nice pictures, now what? Sure, my artist has finally been fed, but I still feel hungry, insecure, and unsafe. The depression some days is more than I can bare. But I have art, right? Yes, and thats all I have. Right now, my life depends upon it literally. Its all on me. There is no strong shoulder to lean on, or a warm home to come home to. All I have is art. And you know what? That would be enough for me, if it werent for the stiffling, paralysing feeling of insecurity. My mind continues to tell me Im unsafe. Its all my mind has ever known.

Life Is What I Make It

Yesterday held a possible promise of a chance for me and my career. But after sitting through long hours of hearing other peoples dreams, there was no space or time for mine. Another days wasted energy spent. I know Im not invisible, or else people wouldnt talk to me at all. They see me, but they dont see ME!. I simmer over with ideas and creativity. Im a great artist. I dont mean great as in an artist of note, but a darn good painter and drawer. Gosh darn, thats me, and I claim it. Theres nothing wrong with my confidence. Then what is wrong with me? Is it because Im not young and beautiful anymore. That held its own problems, because people still didnt see ME. I got their attention because I was nice to look at, and that is all. They never wanted to examine my brain. I am a woman of substance, and surface gratuity just doesnt do it for me. I refuse to be placated by being thrown a bone every now and then. I want this "show" to be about Me, for once in my life. Starts with ME and ends with ME.
I came home to a dismal existence and was very depressed. Later I had a panic attack because I couldnt stop obsessing about it. I feel like I have made a mental separation from my past, these last few days. Im ready and willing to let go of what I thought I wanted. I know now what I really want and it is crystal clear in my mind. Its almost like Im living it already. The problem is, is that my outside world does not resemble my inside world. What kind of magic wand will it take to make it appear before my eyes, because I know its there. I have been cultivating the life I want first, through the medium of Facebook. Im ready to take it to the next step. I will not be dismissed and ignored. Im not that sad little girl anymore.