So…I bore easily. Really, REALLY easily and art has always been the way I daydream. It allowed me to create whole worlds and explore trains of thought otherwise denied to me. I couldn’t imagine NOT having the ability; it is my mutant power after all.
But I did lose it. Which should have been a sign that I’d lost myself as well, but I didn’t notice in the mess that my sanity was becoming. In the end I lost everything I cared about and did some inpatient time in a mental care facility.
Yeah, not my best moment. But it doesn’t even make the top ten list, so no worries.
One of the things that they offered me, besides a lot of pills, was a chance to draw. They were stunned at what I could do; so was I, having almost completely forgotten. By degrees, I rebuilt me. By hand.
You could say art saved me. I regained my sense of self. Accepted a new role with my family. Got a new job. I turned it around.
Art was there when I was down and out. Now I draw everyday. I have customers, which I still find weird, hahaha. I’m content.
No happy ending. But my happy place is only a thought away.