After arriving back in the USA a few days ago, I’ve been busy cleaning out all of my old boxes. Although I just moved back from China, my goal is to move abroad again for my Master’s Degree soon. Thus, all of the clutter in my old room and closet needed to leave.
As I pulled out old boxes and rummaged through dusty drawers, glimpses of the past kept appearing.
My fingers were stained pink and blue from oil pastel paintings made in residential treatment for my eating disorder. Babies surrounded by darkness, blood-red monsters devouring me, trees half blossoming and half diseased – images of despair and hope mixed with every color.
A symbol of peace despite all the chaos of the world
All of my life, I have longed to be a great artist. The idea of using pencils, paint, or other mediums to express myself was so appealing. However, every time that I tried, my work turned out disappointingly. Smudged, unrealistic, and childish, I hated the creations that looked nothing like the vision in my head. Disheartened, I gave up on art.
However, when I was at one of the worst parts of my eating disorder in May 2011, I suddenly had the urge to create art. I began to draw the baby that I imagined was my eating disorder. As I created the child who I loved but others hated, I felt such a sense of release. Next, I made the evil vampire who represented the other part of my anorexia. Once again, my emotions had a safe outlet and I actually appreciated the finished works.