I’ve begun a new endeavour: I’m drawing a comic about myself, the various portrayals of who I am; outwardly, a purple mass (mess?) of matter, a sunflower atop my head as a measure and symbol of growth and decay, and with me—within me, really—a cast of characters: aspects of myself, past and present.

 

Viewing life through a new lens after facing and coming through trauma is a bit like not only seeing yourself more clearly, but hearing, acknowledging and addressing yourself for the first time, whether tentatively or vehemently…

 

Within the thick of things, I wasn’t in a state of mind to write (odd and uncharacteristic tech phobia (those bullies sure know how to deter), being belittled (so belittled, no matter how much weight I physically gained), and endless distraction (squirrel!) Seriously: being harassed— no stars! Would not recommend. Without writing as an outlet, it became impossible to contain my thoughts. It led to verbal processing, which for me, is just a neutral way to say I was fucking talking to myself. Tricky as that was, it became trickier still when I began talking to different versions of myself. Friends and family joined the ‘party’ and let’s just say it’s been complicated since—ten-fold since less friendly folk gatecrashed, and I eventually went temporarily mute. (Not kidding.)

 

I’ve been writing again (coherent sentences and everything!) more so since around the time I became pregnant with my daughter. Most of it before that point was a rehashing… Writing helps, it always has, but I needed more room for expression—connection with myself alongside the objectivity that writing eventually brings.

 

So, I began drawing again. It’s not too shabby. *cringe* I’ve actually found solace in the process and initially, it was also one of the few places in which I’d brought these fragmented and sometimes masked elements of myself together on the page and given it full acknowledgement. It helped (still helps) with actual integration of these broken pieces.

 

The characters are manifestations of fragmented traits and interests and locked-away hurts and humours, stunted deviations and repressed emotion, and of course, an element of a few people throughout my life who have (perhaps, obviously?) ‘magically’, appeared as I drew. Having said that, these are manifestations of myself, no more another person than the wide nostrils of the nose on my face actually belonging to my Dad instead of simply bearing his resemblance. This process, has offered me insight alongside expression, and ultimately, it’s making me whole once more. As personal as it is, my urge to share it eclipses my fear — maybe, it’ll resonate, maybe it’ll help someone else make sense of their own experiences, or maybe it’ll be one more thing to scroll on by. Either way, it’s underway, both on the page and off.

 

I drew these characters using the Procreate app on my iPad. Here’s a time-lapse video of that process (noob alert):

 

 

More videos to follow, and comics will be coming soon(ish).