Sometimes I have to laugh when I think about how cliché of a survivor I am; trying to make my pain into meaningful art.
But you know what? I’m proud to be a part of this group of tortured artists.
It’s wildly badass to have endured what we did and to be able to express that in the ways that best serve our healing, whatever that looks like. Often, that’s all a survivor can do; our only real retribution.
If my writing and research manage to reach one person who’s been where I was and could benefit, that’s all I really need. To me, that’s therapy.
So go ahead. Take that pain and make it all gorgeous. Feel that anger, then find a way to release it bit-by-bit; in words or paint spatters or candle making or aerial yoga.
Find community in it. Revel in it. Reclaim your sense of self and inspire action in others with it.
Your creations will look different as you move through recovery and experience the emotions that come with it. Let them be as jagged or as soft as you need them to feel. Allow them all to be valid, accepted parts of you.
While you’re at it: scream, dance, laugh, break down completely, and learn to feel safe all over again from scratch. Repeat as needed.
If you’re comfortable sharing; I’d love to see examples of your art, whatever form it takes! Perhaps you’ll even reach someone else who really needs it.
