i had an easier time with this self-portrait than the last. i think it's because i have been spending so much time thinking about my life lately, about how i am, about how the abuse continues to affect me.
i float around in a bubble. a very fragile bubble, drifting slowly up and down, in no real direction. occasionally a breeze comes by and pushes me, or spins me in a circle, or turns me upside down. occasionally the bubble bursts.
this bubble represents many things. including, i think, my ability to cope. my sanity. my protection. my fragile happiness and self-esteem.
i am surrounded by these straight pins ready to pop my precious bubble: conflict, self-hatred, invalidation, anger, frustration, depression, loneliness, the nightmares i loathe. hopelessness. and more often than i'd like to emit the bubble bursts and i begin free falling to the ground, completely out of control. i lash out, in an attempt to protect myself, my soft and vulnerable inner core, but instead end up hurting the ones i love most--and myself in the process.
someday i'll have something stronger than a bubble surrounding me.
how i was in the past
explanation of the transformational self-portrait