the drawing of my world, from the art therapy activity in my PTSD workbook.
i live in a bubble, in my own little world. the things i have access to...my anger. my hurtful words, to myself and to others. my tears. my pain. and my coping mechanisms...my love for my family, my music, my art, my writing. outside of my bubble there are things waiting to get me, threatening to shatter me...nightmares, depression, flashbacks.
and my family. a ray of hope, of love, of light, reaching for me as i am reaching for them...only a little light will pass through the barrier of my bubble...i cannot quite reach them, i cannot quite get outside of my little world to be with them fully. i am trapped. while i can see them, and love them, and be near them...i am still alone.
this is me, i am (self portrait 1)