The Chronically ill Creative

Photo and watercolor painting by Miranda Gargasz

It has been nearly two months since I had to shut down my stationery shop due to my health issues and personal stuff. I felt lost, a ship without a compass, adrift at sea, my destination forgotten.

I realized that it had been nearly a year and half since I had done any painting or art journaling. I no longer played with art the way I used to. All my creativity had been poured into products. Make the money, lady. Hustle, hustle, hustle. There’s no time for fun! You gotta work!

I think I burned out a bit.

I found myself thinking about how social media makes our lives so noisy. The constant desire to be plugged in, not missing out, was eating at me. I needed to stop the constant chatter and the “Look at me!” call of the internet.

So, I disconnected.

Facebook? Nope. Instagram? Not really. Discord? No. Messenger? No. YouTube? Once.

In the last eight weeks, I’ve been clawing my way back to myself. I spent a lot of time grieving yet another thing that fibromyalgia took from me in my business. I cried. I slept. I became mired in an awful depression. I finally accepted that, sometimes, what my brain wants, what my heart wants, doesn’t matter because my body doesn’t care. My body says, “Nope. Rest and recharge. Don’t push your luck. If you do, I’ll remind you who is really in charge here.”

I started putting my focus in different areas of my life to be of use to my family in new ways. My youngest son was only just diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder at 22 years old–a diagnosis that was masked by his giftedness in school. I started, and continue, to learn more about his neurodivergence. My training as a teacher is only good for identifying children who may need testing. In none of my classes in college was I ever taught about the twice exceptional child. So, a lot of my time has been devouring all information I can to help him succeed in life. He’s stumbling. A lot. Mama Bear won’t let that be the final answer, though. I’ve got his back.

I started trying to take something off my husband’s plate. He’s had a tough year so far. While I can’t always do the housework because of pain, and I can’t always make dinner for the same reason, what I CAN do is organize our finances and put us on a workable budget–something he has stumbled over due to his own struggles with depression in the last few months.

And I started to paint again. I broke out my watercolors and decided to play. I am not that comfortable with them. Water is an unruly medium, and I struggle to get it right. However, that painting of my Katie up there turned out really good. I’m proud of it. I started a small watercolor sketchbook and am excited about being in the studio again.

I reached out to my friend Pixi in England. We’re going to start a Wreck This Journal together to create memories even though we’re an ocean apart. I cannot express how excited I am about this new endeavor!

And I’ve been thinking about this break from social media. Other than Messenger (it’s the only way I have to communicate with my British friend) and a post here and there on Instagram, I’m not really planning on diving into social media in the way I had been. I may still film once in awhile as the desire strikes me, but as far as posting regularly . . . I don’t see it happening.

Sometimes, you have to make the world stop spinning. You have to get off. Remember who you are, or were, without technology. I know I exist there. My happiness exists there.

Social media’s noise drowned out the good stuff for me.

Time to turn down the volume. Regroup. Find myself again.

I’ve missed her.