I wasn’t going to paint. I was going to crawl in bed and binge eat all my comfort foods and go to sleep. While eating I was going to overthink and replay conversations in my head. I thought days like these were going to be easy for me to overcome and rise above. All I have is doubt in my capabilities as graphic artist and skills.
I used to have to fight for my right to have a job (with my ex) and to fight for my rights to go to college. They weren’t pretty or easy to go through both mentally and physically but I got a job and a degree. It took 12 years but I got it. Then at work today I was gaslighted by a coworker. After providing proof (physical and digital proof) that I wasn’t I wasn’t the one that created the artwork, that she was (knowing and being told that she wasn’t supposed to) gaslighting still continued. I came home, cooked dinner and grabbed the kids Oreos when my husband asked me if I painted. Had I preplanned my next meals? He was successful in distracting me from my head then listened to what happened-it was a lot better than the guilt I would’ve felt after eating a million points worth of cookies.
He also surprised me with some tomato cages (that’s the way to a southern woman’s heart), potting soil, and a hanging basket with a promise to go with me to pick out flowers to plant in it.
Even though the painting has a dark air about it, I did feel better painting it.
Prompt Word: Lake