Tag Archives for Invisible Illness

Gratitude and Creativity: Instagram

Last year in October, I joined the InkTober challenge. To fully participate and share what I drew each day I set up an Instagram account. Since then I’ve been using the app a lot. No, I’m not posting selfies every chance I get. It turns out that Instagram doesn’t only cater to teens and millennials and has more depth and purpose than posting vanity shots. Although, if that’s why you use it I’m not going to judge you for it. I’m sure if I felt healthier I’d probably post more than a few.

 

 

So, why have I continued to use it? First off, it’s an easy and somewhat addictive app to use. Once you select a few users to follow you’re sent suggestions for users with similar profiles e.g. photographers or news feeds. I can, and have, spent hours flipping through the feeds of some interesting people and organizations. National Geographic is one of my favourites because not only do the photographers on assignment post breathtaking images, the information accompanying the photos is informative and educational – I’ve become aware of some alarming global issues through that feed. It’s also a forum where I can easily post from my phone by adding short captions to photos – usually of my doodles –, which was great when my laptop died on me recently.

Apart from the ease of use, through Instagram, I’ve discovered so many things and people I would have had to search tirelessly over the interwebs or travel to find. Sure, some of them are things I never knew I had any interest in, but I think that’s what keeps me going back. For instance, I have discovered artists that work with materials and methods (pointillism, block printing, collage, linocut and chine-collé) I would never have imagined to create some of the most strikingly beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Whether they are starting out in their careers or seasoned experts, the commitment to their craft(s) is incredible to witness. I’m able to see the creative process of these artists and see how their work evolves over time.

Because of the window Instagram provides into who they are, I now own a few pieces of the artworks created by some of these incredibly talented people. Being stuck at home, as I am most of the time, the app is giving me the opportunity to virtually “travel” to meet and connect with these people so I can bring the beauty of their creations into my home. This is yet another thing I’m realizing I took for granted when I was healthy: going to galleries or interesting shops where I could find small treasures, which is now available to me in a way that doesn’t feel as impersonal as visiting an internet auction site.

Also, for someone like me who only uses art as a way to cope with illness, seeing all this talent is motivating me to continue my creative learning. I recently joined a weekly Instagram challenge called ‘IF Draw A Week’ that provides a drawing prompt for what to draw each week and then post it with the challenge hashtag. Along with my regular doodles, I hope this will be another way for me to improve my skills. If not, at the very least I have another outlet to connect with people while I pass the time.

 

 

If you’d like to see what I get up to on Instagram click here: @mysmallsurrenders

A Bright Spot In My Grey Fog

Time sometimes makes me feel as if I’m moving at a snail’s pace through a murky grey fog. Since having surgery at the end of February, that’s how I’ve been feeling. For the first weeks afterwards, I told myself it was the general anesthetics working through my body and once that passed my energy level would pick up. When that didn’t happen I told myself that I wasn’t getting enough quality sleep, which rarely ever happens, so I had to cast that variable by the wayside. Even when I got the all clear from my doctor because the pathology report from my surgery was negative for any cancer, there was no movement on my energy meter.

I started to get concerned; because I thought, I might slowly be sliding into depression but missing the true signs. Maybe the low energy I was crediting to anesthesia, fatigue, a pain flare up, or my laptop’s hard drive crashing was really the looming darkness of a mental crash. It wouldn’t be hard to miss for someone in my situation, even with the mental health supports I have in place to cope with my poor health; and especially because my nervous system gets flooded not just by the barrage of constant pain but also an unending amount of pain medications. With these things constantly at play, a shift in mood would be easy to miss.

Then last week, I felt a desperate need to change things, but I knew whatever I did had to fall within the limits of my pain. On Saturday, I decided to do something that I had taken for granted when I was healthy. I booked an appointment with the aesthetician I used to go to because it’s been such a long time – almost four years ago before the start of my illness – since I did anything to pamper myself. The women who own the spa I went to were so happy to see me. They asked why it had been so long since my last visit and I told them what I’ve been living with. Not only were they sympathetic, they were also empathetic because they both faced significant health issues in recent years. They were both extremely encouraging and expressed hopes that I would be better soon.

At the end of my appointment, as I walked to the elevators one of the women called after me. I assumed I forgot something, but I hadn’t. She followed me out to give me one of the tightest warm hugs I’ve had in a long time. I started to cry as a woman I hardly know held me with great affection. She reiterated her positive wishes and prayers that I will become healthy soon. For the rest of the day as I pushed myself to finish the errands I had to do – I’m not sure I could have lasted another week without my laptop – I could feel the fog lifting. A hug from someone I barely know lit up my day and has had lingering positive effect.

I’ve been reflecting on that for the past few days: For anyone reading my writing for the first time, this isn’t about me being starved for affection or human contact. I have wonderful friends and family who do everything they can to support me. This is about the big way small gestures can affect our lives; the way sharing our troubles can bring about such surprising connections and unexpectedly comforting events; and how feeling cared for, even if it’s just for a moment, can fortify us.

I’m glad I made that appointment. Apart from reminding me how important it is to do things to pamper one’s self from time to time, it was a truly bright experience that lifted much of the fog that had cloaked me.

 

Weekend Blooms
Taxi Doodles

 

Creative Pain Distractions

It’s hard being alone with intense pain late at night, as I was last night and the night before. Then again, pain that never stops is hard to cope with at any time of the day. Last night, and other days and nights, when my pain is particularly bad and sleep eludes me, I try to think of things to do – aside from amputating the offending body part(s) – to distract myself. Unfortunately, depending on the pain’s level of intensity, I’m not always successful at turning my thoughts away. However, I do usually end up creating something interesting to look at.

As the pain level rose in my legs and pelvis the night before last, I didn’t have a plan for what I wanted to create. I started to place random dots on a clean page in my sketchbook with a black Sharpie pen. Then I connected the dots together with short straight lines and they became triangles, but the sight of a page full of small triangles didn’t feel satisfying. That led me to connecting the triangles at their various points creating a sort of web, which still felt incomplete. I looked at the page for a short while then started drawing lines within each triangle transforming them into prisms. With each line I added, I saw multi-pointed stars appearing on the page that made me wish for an opportunity to experience weightlessness among them on the off-chance I might not feel any pain without the pull of gravity…

Drawing lines didn’t help make my pain go away on recent nights, but it distracted me from thinking of it for a short time as I imagined creating a new galaxy of endless stars.