Early Struggles and Passion for Art
I was an emotionally sensitive child; I only learned this term as an adult. The terms I were more familiar with were not quite as wholesome! I’m still reminded at occasional family get togethers, that I was a horrible child. Mealtimes were a disaster as I hated everything, school was a struggle because I was painfully shy. I loved Art though. I’d get lost in my head for hours on end with my tongue sticking out in pure concentration. I’d get in trouble at school for tearing out pages from my copybooks to draw on. No book was safe from doodles! Art gave me a sense of safety and confidence. Throughout school I excelled in Art classes. I just knew that my future and destiny revolved around Art. It had to.
I left school at 17, armed with my portfolio that contained 2 years of joyous work and all of my pride. In Ireland way back then, you submitted your portfolio to Art Colleges in the hope that at least one of them offered you a prized place on a course to your future. Emotionally I felt like I was entering a boxing ring. Round 1… I was turned down very quickly by the college I really wanted to go to. My confidence wobbled. My first blow to the head! Don’t panic there’s plenty more colleges out there. Round 2…3…4…more wobbles and blows swiping everywhere! Round 5 (still just about standing) I attend open interviews for a Foundation Course, a year or two preparing a new portfolio, that might possibly get rejected again. There are different queues in a large hall, one for fine art, one for animation and one for graphic design. I get into the fine art queue, the obvious choice to me. After what seemed like an age, it’s my turn. There’s a woman behind a desk. Without looking up at me she tells me to place my work on the table. Moments are spent flicking through my two years of pride, then, still not looking at me she loudly tells me “You are not Fine Art, you are Graphic. Join the other queue”. I was Graphic – what did that mean? My emotional state was in hyper mode, and in that moment my brain did a profound and long-lasting calculation in the same vein as ‘2 +2 = 4’, Me + Graphic = Failure. A failure before I’d even started. I’d no one to talk to, no support to fall back on. I spiralled. Knock out, in round 5. Years, and I mean lots of them passed before I picked up a paint brush again.
Battles with Mental Health
It took a huge amount of love and support from special people, a diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder, a lot of therapy and a lot of guts. Back in the ring, ready for a new round. This time wearing boxing gloves and head gear! Looking back now, I can see that this short period was when I lost ‘Hope’. The moment my mental health began a journey that has moulded and shaped the Me I am now. My artwork depicts different stages of my journey through therapy and life after it. All are open to interpretation but all of them symbolise ‘Hope’ to me. I was 22 when I was first diagnosed by a doctor. I was told that I had clinical depression. Then I was diagnosed with Anorexia Nervosa. I was sent to a day hospital where I would spend my days drawing the beautiful gardens and trees, oh and hiding from the nurses at mealtimes. In my head I wasn’t depressed, I was fine. Nothing wrong with me. Not a thing. I spent a long time refusing to believe that there was anything wrong with me, with my family and friends watching in horror as I slowly faded away. Completely powerless against my will power and my need to avoid feeling anything.
Recovery and Rediscovery of Hope
After attempting different types of therapies which didn’t work because I wouldn’t let them, I was eventually referred to the Eating Disorders Service. I was one of the lucky ones. I spent 12 years in the care of the Eating Disorders Service, Belfast. Eventually, through intensive talking therapy and the sheer dedication of my wonderful therapist, I accepted that I had a problem. I had reached my lowest weight ever and I felt miserable. Therapy helped me see why I was starving my body, and why I felt the need to punish myself. I was trying desperately to stay numb and at some point earlier in life, I probably made another calculation ‘Emotions = Pain + Suffering, therefore, avoid emotions at all costs. My mind was too busy fixating on food avoidance and hunger and all that entailed, that there was no room or time to feel anything else. From my lowest ebb I began to fight against this monster that had taken over my world. I didn’t want the Anorexia to win. I began the scary journey and through time and a lot of help and support I started winning my battle. But ‘Oh Hello’…along came all those uncomfortable scary emotions, the voice of the woman behind the desk, and all the unprocessed trauma memories I had. I didn’t know how to deal with it all. I felt out of control. The eating disorder was under control, but my mind and body weren’t. Self-harm replaced starving. I didn’t know how to be an adult without punishment. I was in a very dark place. The lowest ever. Then one day, during an appointment with my Psychiatrist, I was handed a printout to read. It was a list of symptoms and behaviours relating to: Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) Well, I near fell off the chair as I read it. It was describing ME! The Me that was hidden under the eating disorder and self-harm. The Me that couldn’t cope healthily with emotions. The Me that feared humiliation, shame, fear itself. The Me that gave up Art. I began a therapy course designed for BPD, known as Dialectical Behavioural Therapy (DBT). It gave me back my ‘hope’ and helped me learn that I don’t need to punish myself to survive and live. It also gave me the tools to deal with emotions in a healthier way. It’s a way of life for me now, don’t get me wrong, it’s still tough and I have wobbles frequently but I finally feel that my life is one worth living. I realised that, just because a woman behind a desk told me I was Graphic, didn’t mean that I was a failure.
Personal Triumphs and Family
There is so much stigma around BPD, that doesn’t need to exist. I don’t have two heads and one eye lol, I am not a threatening ogre that will eat you up. I’m as normal as the next person. I’m just maybe an emotionally sensitive adult. I’ve four beautiful sons, a loving husband, wonderful friends and a passion for art. The difference maybe is that I have physical scars that show my journey through life. But we all have scars. We all have difficult times and traumas to live with. We all have emotions. We all have to experience them in some way shape or form. Some of us just need a helping hand and a new way of dealing with them I spend my time now, when I’m not painting, trying to dispel the stigma that surrounds this disorder. I currently sit on Northern Irelands Personality Disorder Network as a volunteer expert by lived experience. Through this network, we are striving to improve services and promote knowledge and proper understanding of BPD. I provide workshops and advice based on my journey through eating disorders, borderline personality disorder and Art. On different note, My youngest son was born in 2011. He has a very rare syndrome whereby he is missing part of a gene. His symptoms include profound Autism. He is an absolute joy in our lives. A truly beautiful soul, who just learns to live life differently.
Facing Fears with Love and Art
One day as I was painting away, he joined me in my studio and slowly and gently began to feel my paintings with his fingertips. He was transfixed with any little lump or bump he found. At this point I was searching for something in my style of painting. Something that came from my heart. A style of my very own. As I watched him, I realised he was unknowingly giving me my style. Talk about a lightbulb moment!!! I wanted to create a painting that would appeal to his other senses. His world has collided with mine to create Art that comes not only from my heart but his soul too.