Scrapbooking and other Creative Endeavors

Source: rememberwhenscrap.blogspot.com

Source: rememberwhenscrap.blogspot.com

 

Last week marked ten years since my mother passed away. I decided to remember her by creating a scrapbook in her memory. My partner’s mother is very much into scrapbooking so she helped me out–showed me what I needed and how to go about pulling it all together.

Well, now I’ve also decided to make one for my best friend’s 30th birthday. And one for my good friend, of the trip we took together to Mexico, also for her birthday. I honestly never thought I would get into scrapbooking and certainly not this much. It has become a past-time that brings me happiness and transforms my evenings into magical moments of creativity and joy.

The scrapbook I’m making for my best friend is taking me down an 18-year journey of friendship. I have so many cards, letters, notes, pictures, of the times we’ve shared, and it feels great to find a way to commemorate our friendship.

Instead of coming home, walking my dog and planting myself in front of my television, I now have a hobby that I really enjoy. It’s fun, and it’s giving me a chance to be creative! I’m really not artistic–I love to write but ask anyone who knows me, I’m not a visual person at all! Nevertheless, I feel good about what I’m creating and I’m sure the thought will be appreciated once I hand over these gifts to my friends.

I’ve visited more art stores in the past couple of months than I have in my entire lifetime. It’s funny how excited I get when I see all those little scrapbook stickers!! I feel silly sometimes but I’m really enjoying myself and it makes me wonder about meaning, production, purpose and art. It makes me realize that I need creativity to survive; that as human beings, we don’t need a reason to create art, and to be creative. It’s just something expressive and enjoyable in itself. I’m spending hours and quite a bit of money on something of questionable value, but I guess it all depends on how you define the value of what you produce, and what you spend your time on.

To me, this is a great use of my time, and I’m sure to my friends it will be a meaningful gift.

I think what sometimes kills me about my work is that there is no creativity involved. There’s also no autonomy and I guess in my case the two go hand in hand–in a very bureaucratic environment there isn’t much room for independent thought.

So I find other ways to keep my mind occupied, to express myself, to allow my creativity to flourish. To me, there’s nothing worse than being bored on the job. There’s nothing worse than having absolutely nothing to do (my workload tends to be  either ‘no-time-for-lunch’ busy or ‘questioning-my-life’ not busy). I find when I’m bored at work or have nothing to do, it’s the worst feeling of purposelessness. It truly makes me question my life and my existence and what I’m doing with myself.

When I walk into an art store, I’m always amazed at the vast number of supplies and projects and types of art that exist. It makes me realize that there are a lot of people out there creating–drawing, painting, writing, sculpting, print making–probably because it’s something they love, and a way they’ve found to express themselves.

 

Anxiety

 

Anxiety rules over me,

Panic

Grips my heart

My guts

My insides

Makes me weak.

 

I never learned to

Stand by my

Convictions,

Nourish my own

Perspective,

Find solid ground

To stand on

Peacefully.

 

Solitude has followed me,

A shadow that I hide from,

Never calm within

My mind,

Never comfortable

Being

Who I am

Knowing

What I’m not.

 

Simply slipping

Down a slope–

To what end?

New Paths

Source: lafayetteca.wordpress.com

Source: lafayetteca.wordpress.com

I want to organize my mind,
A little spring cleaning
Inside my brain—
Clear out the clutter,
Fix up those neurons,
The pathways and connections
I fall back on
Like a road far too
Well-travelled.

A construction worker’s hat,
Dusty,
Hanging in a dark
Niche of my mind.
New roads—
Unpaved,
Non-existent,
Badly needed.

Last Night Part II

Source: jijithvarma.blogspot.com

Source: jijithvarma.blogspot.com

Last night

I uncovered the past,

Sifted through

Letters,

Photos,

Our former lives.

 

Families disappear

Like butterflies

Fleeing a cocoon

Transform.

 

Friendships endure,

Others form a wasteland,

Stirring emotions,

Volcanoes that lay dormant:

Willful amnesia.

 

I recognize the sadness in my eyes,

The momentary happiness

So fleeting.

 

My arms around your neck,

Loving embrace

Quickly turns to dust,

Morphs into hate.

 

The past,

I tightly seal

A Rubbermaid bin

To keep the pain

Contained.

Last Night

 

Last night I dusted off

Old bins

Collections of my past

Went through the years.

 

Youth wasted on the

Young but knowledge

Still can’t change it.

 

Even now I feel old,

Worn-down

Exhausted.

 

I see myself,

Smiling shyly in photos,

Masculine arms draped

Around my neck,

My waist,

Holding on.

 

Only to let go

In some near future.

CBT Take Two

I previously posted about my CBT Fail–basically that I walked out on my social anxiety CBT group and never went back. Well I had a minor meltdown and started crying so I felt that I didn’t really want to go back there. Well, one of the therapists was super nice and is now doing individual therapy with me.

I’ve seen a lot of therapists in my lifetime. I once saw a psychiatrist for six months. I talked and talked. He asked some questions. Never really said much. Then after six months he told me I was dead inside. He told me the process of watching my mother die (she fought cancer for four years until she died in 2003) made me dead inside.

So, you can imagine how I feel about therapy.

Well, this feels different. First off it’s a CBT approach which I like. It’s less about going into my past, or subconscious and trying to figure out the source of all my problems and issues. It’s more about now–about my thoughts right now and how I can do things, take small steps, to improve my life. It’s very goal-oriented and I like that. It focuses you and helps create positive change almost immediately. I’ve already developed two goals for this week and I’m well on my way to completing one of them.

It’s definitely a start. Yesterday was my first session so I’ll have to see how it goes, but it seems promising and feels good.

Sometimes I can get caught up in trying to understand the origins of why I do things, or feel things. I try to figure out how I got here, why I’m so down sometimes, why I panic, feel anxious, feel unstable. I realize though the origin isn’t important. It won’t help me to figure out where to go from here. It seems counter-intuitive. I always thought if I figured out what caused me to be/feel/think this way (albeit it the ‘what’ in this scenario is actually a multitude of factors) I would be able to figure out how to deal with it, address it, undo it. But now I’m taking a different approach. Really doesn’t matter how I got here. What matters is where I want to go, and how to get there.

 

 

Defeated

 

A pretty girl,

A sad girl,

Lonely and afraid

And lost.

 

What will we find,

In each other?

 

Create,

Together?

 

Destroy,

Yet another?

 

Questions

Unanswered

Gnaw,

Chew,

Burn.

 

Defeated.

Boxed In

Slowly I comprehend

What limits me—

These thoughts

The rules I have

Created,

Learned,

Absorbed.

 

Rigid lines I draw

Around myself,

My life—

Boxed in,

Drowning in a

Well,

My own creation

Limits

Confines

Destroys

Me.