pictures

This is how I feel today:
This picture on the bottom is a picture of a painting that I took in a museum. Actually, since I don't know who painted it it's probably illegal to post it here, but at least I'm not pretending I painted it. To me it is a really powerful picture.
The picture on the right is a picture I drew in eigth grade when I was in the hospital. I have it up on my wall. I felt so alone that day, and for the most part I still do. The flowers is a picture I took outside a few days ago on our porch when it was first starting to snow. The close-up is really cool because you can see individual snowflakes, but I like the small picture too because it looks so sad. It really grabbed me, seeing those bright red geraneums being covered with snow, knowing they were going to die and there was really no hope left.
This picture on the bottom is one I drew about a year ago. It's about depression and dissociation and cutting and the eating disorder and all of the horrible things that were going on when I drew it. I felt like I was locked into a glass box. I could see everything beautiful but couldn't touch it. Nothing could see me. I felt really alone then too, as I still do. I've always felt so lonely. Anyway, I titled the picture "Dissociation" because it signifies how I cleanly disconnected myself from the world.

This bottom picture is, I think, the most powerful of all of these pictures. I don't know if you can see it, but up in the black part, or the sky, there is a photograph of a baby, who is of course me. I drew this in the middle of the night right after that last thing that happened with Matt occurred. I was so confused and so I did the only thing I knew how to do to get out emotions healthily: I got out my drawing junk and tried to draw how I felt. The boy on the left is obviously Matt, and I am on the right. I am covered in cracks and have blush spots because I felt like a shattering china doll, something unreal that the coldness of Matt's hands caused to fall apart. This picture is also depicting dissociation. That's me up there floating in the sky. The girl on the bottom is just some sort of stand-in, a doll to take the trauma. Really I reverted to my innocent, time-old technique of dissociation and floating up into a dark place where I didn't have to think about or feel what was going on beneath me.

I could try to explain how frozen and depressed I feel today, but these pictures do a lot better job than I ever could. I feel like all of them today.