12/01/2024
• You left me •
Spray paint, acrylics on scrap metal
🫠 “You left me” is an excerpt from my diary that narrates my deeply personal journey through the complexities of depression, anxiety and self-harm, highlighting the transformative power of self-care and resilience.
As I reflect on this part of my life, I am to create a space for dialogue, empathy, and understanding surrounding mental health issues.
I am able to bring these often stigmatized topics to the forefront as part of another layer to my healing journey.
🗣️ By confronting these themes, my artwork becomes a catalyst for destigmatization and fosters a sense of solidarity for those who may be grappling with similar struggles.
Through the vulnerability expressed and by breaking the silence, I aspire to contribute to the ongoing dialogue surrounding self-harm and create an atmosphere in which people feel safe to share their own story and seek support without judgment.
👣 It is an invitation for people to explore their own emotions, confront societal taboos and embrace the healing potential within themselves, a place where the light of resilience can shine through even in the darkest moments.
I am able to share this work because right now I am safe, supported and simply confronting all aspects of my self, including the most challenging ones :)
👇🏽Excerpt from diary
“You left me when I needed you the most, when I was hurting myself, when asking for help was in the cuts.
The scars on my skin reopened, revealing a dotted line that you did not want to follow.
The dots connected and formed a line straight to the heart.
You made your choice and I guess I am grateful for it, as I wouldn’t of have fallen so deep to the point of going no further…
Where the only way left was up.
It hurts to think that you chose that you are better off without me.
It really touched one of my deepest fears: not being wanted, needed, not being enough. Enough to stay.
But enough of this!
I know who stayed: I did.
The part of me that believed in me, that one day it’ll come out of the corners of my mind that has been caved into darkness for centuries.
It’s the oldest place I know of, but I’ve chosen to stop visiting. “