Apocalypse

I don’t know what it’s like for you, but for me, art making can be filled with moments of absolute terror and panic, even after 5 years of it being my full time job.

In fact, the other night I had an anxiety attack in front of a canvas at home because my agenda was simply to play on it.

No proper painting with a scene or object in mind.

Just playing, making a colourful mess, with no goal or end zone other than to enjoy the process…

I did not enjoy the process.

My heart was in my throat and Slug was loud in my mind. My chest was clenched so tight I found it hard to breathe and on top of those physical feelings there was an overwhelming sense of shame that I was feeling any of it… What an imposter!

I know I’m not alone in this.

I have a similar anxiety before I step into a store I’ve never been in, or if plans change unexpectedly… A cold, hard dread sets in, certain failure knocks at the door and it takes all of my energy to appear as though none of it is happening.

But it IS happening, and according to the feelings coursing through my body it is the apocalypse… Literally the end of the bloody world (dramatic much?!)!

I discovered this apocalypse scenario during an art therapy activity a few weeks ago wherein I created an abstract work about some of my triggers and what their symptoms are. Afterwards, when I was analysing the image, I found that I had created an end-of-world scenario filled with fire, collapsing buildings, floods and stabbing black voids. For me, when I come up against hard and uncomfortable moments, my subconscious brain and body are programmed to make me feel as though it is THE END OF DAYS.

So it makes sense that I don’t want to paint freely, walk into the new café, try on a different style of clothing, or really hear what my partner is saying to me, doesn’t it? All of that stuff is decidedly at odds with what my animal brain and body wants to do in the face of the perceived CERTAIN DEATH it is being confronted with.

When we are dealing with things that stimulate our own internal emergency beacon our body is going to endeavour to find as much comfort as it can, as quickly as it can.

For me, that sometimes looks like putting my creativity on hold, or reaching for something that allows me to numb (and that’s been booze, drugs, food, exercise, sex, and drama in the past). These days I try other stuff, and whilst I might not have any answers that suit you, simply being aware of and validating the experience of apocalypse scenario has helped a lot.

While I was standing in front of my canvas that night I kept calmly repeating that I was safe, breathing slowly and expanding that breath into my lungs as much as I could to stimulate my parasympathetic nervous system. After about 20 minutes of this I felt much calmer and I was able to enjoy the last 10 minutes of painting in my 30 minute session…

I enjoyed ⅓ of the total time I was there to create.

I’m hoping that as I spend more time rewiring my brain to feel safe in that uncomfortable space of free flowing creativity I get to spend more time enjoying it, but I’m also not going to pressure my body to feel anything…

For the first time in my life, I’m simply going to let it feel.

We need space to practise doing the things our brain and body tells us aren’t safe when we know perfectly well that they are. That may or may not be the studio with a paintbrush in hand, or you might want to practise being uncomfortable in a gym or hiking through a forest, either way you won’t get there sitting on your ass doing nothing!

Rewiring our brain isn’t easy, so welcome those hard little moments, they’re a sign you’re on the right trajectory.

XXXX ALI