Another post is live on my blog. I am posting part here in hopes some will consider checking it out.
Title:
Parental Trauma and a Pizza BoxWhen I was younger and I wanted to be a painter, my mother used to say my paintings were the sign of a sick mind. She had no idea that I would be creating evidence of my sickness and that I would turn the person I turn to for help into the villain of my blog. I checked with my therapist and she just laughed maniacally, so I think she is admitting guilt or I am hallucinating again.
Back when I thought I could paint and draw, I would stare at the clouds and see amazing things in them; now all I see is acid rain and the possibility of a bird dive-bombing me and crapping in my mouth. I used to take these "visions" and turn them into abstract versions of the monsters that haunt my mind. This was sometimes therapeutic.
I remember when all this changed. I was working on a painting in the house. I remember even back then I avoided being around people and preferred to do everything as far away from the infestation of humans that has overrun our planet. My mother came home and was upset—I think she saw I was happy. I had put newspaper down so I could paint, and she demanded...
https://www.socketseekers.com/parental-trauma-and-a-pizza-box/ 🔗
