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PTSD - If You Could Draw It Or Describe It - What Would It Look Like

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I one time wanted to draw a picture of life as a PTSD sufferer or life as a I see it now. I have no yet completed it but it is very strong. I also have many photographs of it as I am an artist too. The main themes of my draws and photographs are based on my extreme fear of men.

I have one picture that I drew from a picture I took at a quarry. It was a beautiful look across the water with the cliffs in the distance... the sun is about to go down and the clouds are just right. Anyone would say this is a beautiful view. I redrew it as it was in the picture but I drew ghostlike figures of the man who hurt me and some random sketches of men all around the photograph. Sort of to say... this would be beautiful to me too if I didn't have the constant fear of getting hurt by him on my mind....
 
Very interesting post Kaydee. Here is the way it feels/has felt for me. I enjoyed all your photos, but I LOVED your thunder cloud pic by the way. I popped a couple of my own that I look at to feel better, too.
 

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Dixie, that is so neat!!! I was working with the same imagery a year ago, picturing it as if the sky were black paper, and every pin-hole I punched in it were a star. Then, eventually, the paper rips when you've punched enough pin-holes and voila... in streams the light. Cool. Great minds think alike, right? :)
 
That's what PTSD makes me look like

It seems that I am condemned to live tied to such a burden. That's what I feel my life is all about...I even sometimes forget about it so long I was carrying it. Its lioke a physical extension of my body.
 

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I have horrible stomach problems related to the anxiety. When I was in inpatient treatment for self-injury, they told us that it wasn't uncommon to get somatic pain after stopping self-injury. I liken it to my body telling me I am going to be in pain whether I hurt myself or not. If I don't hurt myself, my body says "Oh...well, you are STILL going to be in pain!!!" Grrr. So part of my PTSD looks like this monster...kinda like one of the Monsters, Inc monsters, only mean! I named my monster "Som". "Som" makes it so I can't eat b/c I'm in so much pain. He hasn't been around in a while since I've been feeling better, though.
 
PTSD and Sorting through the "rubbish"

These pictures show how I am feeling about PTSD feeling this week:

The first picture shows a garbage pile that was left on the property my husband and I purchased for our home. It is just tons of junk that all sorts of people tossed into this spot. In the picture, we have started to clean it up by sorting out metal to be sent to the scrapyard- those are the objects that are prominent in the foreground. They remind me of the obvious causes of PTSD that don't belong to me- assaults that I couldn't prevent. But remaining in the pile are smaller items that are entwined with the plants that have naturally grown up around the garbage- including the clearly distinguishable toilet caught up in a bush of blackberries. What can't be seen are the very small pieces of more toxic trash- used disposable diapers, decomposing fiberglass panels that disintegrate into dust when moved, rotting meat in styrofoam packages. That's how I feel lately when I try to get obvious pieces of trash (like self-hate derived from too much ownership for abuse) out of my psyche that have clung to my ego identity for too long. I feel like when I try to move them I disturb this toxic refuse that is just below the surface and sickening just to look at.

The second picture is a sculpture that my friends welded from some of the scrap metal. My goal is that I will be able to make something beautiful of myself once I get all this trauma out of me (if possible). A picture I haven't taken yet would show this same spot today: lots of new young trees, a couple of berry shrubs, trails from deer and coyote walking through, grass. Perhaps what ended up happening with the trash clean-up will happen with me as well... I wanted to remove every tiny bit of garbage from the land and get it to its rightful spot, but disturbing some things, like plastic and fiberglass that had been weathering for a long time, caused them to break apart and turn into more of a health risk/contaminant through removal (breathing fibers, creating small particles nearly impossible to completely remove) than if they were buried and "mitigated" by the soil- but that limits what can happen in that area even though it "looks" natural now- no food plants and no kids digging in the soil.
 

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There have been some wonderful posts in reply to this thread

I have included a photo of the sunset (last night) - it is more about my current attitude to PTSD - each night the sun sets on it and I sit back and watch.

The second photo is a reminder for me to sit back and watch life - do some inner reflection and relax.

A slightly different take on the thread I know but hey I started it so...

take care all and enjoy
 

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These are beautiful Kaydee, just beautiful. An amazing sunset to just sit back and watch, chill out with friends and let the day draw to a close, not an end, just a close. These are lovely photographs K, thankyou for sharing them. Is the second the ocean recent?

~fin

an aspirational take on the thread perhaps, really very lovely.
 
Alice, Dharma, Kaydee, what wonderful pictures. Alice you have amazing talent. Dharma, I can relate to the first one, unfortunately I know that image all too well. And Kaydee, I LOOOOVE the ocean shot, what a peaceful beautiful scene. :)
 
I picture my PTSD as a skinny-ish, flesh colored slimy humanoid creature, laying or crouching on my bed, getting slime all over everything. And he's scary and hairless with big black eyes, but at the same time he looks vulnerable and scared, like if you turned on the lights he'd freeze or curl up for warmth. He moves slowly and he moans... I pictured him a couple months ago and that's what I kind of direct my attention towards. I almost want to hold him and tell him he doesn't have to cower. He doesn't have to be a monster.

I posted this on my facebook when I thought of this and a friend of mine posted a very appropriate poem in response.

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said: "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter-bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."
--By Stephen Crane

I don't have anything deep or inspirational to say, except that this is my picture. And he lives inside me and he's just as scared as me. He doesn't want to have to exist for me anymore, and one day he'll be able to rest.
 
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