Painting

I haven't written a while, mainly because I just don't know what to write. Daily struggles seem so silly to me. Most of the time I am embarrassed by the little things I struggle with. But the truth is, they are real, they are part of me, and they make my world so very difficult.

Today, however, I will write about a struggle/success. This last week I attempted to attend an art class. It was supposed to be a night out with other people that like art, painting, and even wine. The problem...I do not do well in social situations. People scare me and I just assume stay away. Not only that, I haven't painted in a very long time. I am far toooo critical of my work and panic with the lack of perfection. Recently I have tried pencil drawings and feel somewhat comfortable with that. I just don't share them and I know that I can erase and start over.

The class. Well the first step was to sign up, which I did. Second step was actually making the commitment to show up, which I did as well. With much anxiety, I got in my car and headed to the class. Of course I got so lost. My anxiety sky-rocketed. I had urges to act out and wanted to cry. I walked around for half an hour before calling someone for help. It turns out I was in the wrong place all together. Uh oh. Here comes all the negative self-talk. "I am so stupid. Why did you think you could do something like this. I am worthless. I can't do anything right." And so on. I won't write the really bad stuff.

After support and several deep breaths, I got back in my car...and drove to the right place. Sat in my car for a while before getting enough courage to walk in very late. My anxiety was very high, I was extremely embarrassed, my feelings were off the charts, but I walked in anyway. Okay, that part was over. I got there.

Now to paint something. I felt like just getting there was good enough. I would sit for a minute then leave. But there was someone there to assist me in getting caught up on the painting. Ugh. I hurried through, painting fast with a shaky hand and managed to get through the night.

I didn't finish the painting to my satisfaction. I felt hurried and sloppy. I am very critical of my own stuff. I got in my car and gladly drove home. Phew, it was over. When I got home, my girls with waiting with a smile and anxiously wanting to see what I had painted. They loved loved loved it. The painting is currently hanging by the front door.

I am not sure how I feel about it today, but the success of the whole thing was just that I did it despite all the anxiety, bumps to get there, and negative feelings I have about painting with color. And everyday my girls look at it in amazement that I could actually do that. I am not sure if I will go back, but I am leaning toward yes. I have a couple of people that have volunteered to go with me to make it easier so we shall see. There is a huge part of me that wants to so badly get back into something I really love doing. Art and creating!!!!