It’s ugly. I won’t deny that. For some reason, I needed to paint a bedroom. I mean, it isn’t really hard to figure out why I needed to paint this. I wanted it to be beautiful and ugly at the same time. I used the most garish colors I had. And that pink is very pink.
In it’s own way, it’s a frilly little girl’s bed. The bed itself might be something a little girl would dream of. The curtains are poofy and pretty. The carpet is a deep blue.
When you put them all together, they make a very ugly combination. That’s sort of how my bedroom was. It holds so many nightmarish memories for me. But it was also my refuge as I got older. I was able to hide from the world when it overwhelmed me. I used my imagination while I was reading. I learned so many things while in my bedroom.
I feel so drained now. It’s amazing how much emotional energy this took. I didn’t care that the bed doesn’t look right. I didn’t care that the lines are crooked. It was coming from a place so deep in my soul, the superficial details just didn’t matter.
I think the strong colors are quite reflective of the strength of the emotions that have been surfacing. I’m trying to roll with the punches, so to speak. I’m using all the coping strategies I have, and trying to stick to the healthy ones. I’m fighting the dissociation that seems to be cropping up again.
I’m not going to let these new triggers get the best of me. I am stronger than they are. I’m not exactly sure what they are yet, but I will be the winner.
Now, you all have to remind me of this when I fall down into the depression pit…