No Art Therapy For Me

Hey, guys! A great weekend for me. Great! Very melodic, if you will...
My doctor decided to put me on wellbutrin along with the prozac, so I hope that helps a bit...we'll see. I'm a little nervous about the combo, but there we are. I'll keep truckin.

I painted for the first time in a while yesterday. I used paint almost every day, but lately I have not. Some people find that painting helps them through the rough times...art therapy, if you will. Maybe I just haven't forced myself to do this enough, but I don't think it works that way for me.

I have a very high esteem for Art. For painting and creation in general. To do crafts and collages may help me unwind, but painting and song-writing requires a clear head. For me, it requires a special kind of positive force, a hope, a faith, and (as I said before) a clear mind. These things have been significantly lacking, and thus, I cannot find it within myself to sit down and create. It is hard to really open yourself up to the world when you feel hollow.

But I have lately, which is lovely. THREE DAYS. Three days I've gone without bingeing...so significant to me. I plan on making it four. And painting this morning, too. I did one last night, but I want to re-paint it in order to eliminate some of the more superfluous marks. Van Gogh did this, you know...He would often do a painting from life and then do drawing copies of the painting. Thus, he seemed to narrow in on relationships and accentuate the most important.