Standing In A Breakdown:

Reflecting on the cusp of a mental breakdown.
August 2021



    I was beginning to feel myself spiralling. I did not want to die, I did not have those ideations. I just could not find safety, comfort, protection. I always felt like my artwork told the story of me, where I stand, where I come from and have been through, what I have witnessed, or wished to acknowledge. I tried to speak in parables, metaphors, similes and through abstractions. I was direct, focused and descriptive in the discussion and presentation of the narrative. Yet, people would ask me to elaborate upon those topics, they would ask why they had not known prior, they would continue to inquire. I started to feel like I was being gaslit by everyone.

    I sat thinking about all the posts I had made about how my landlady would sneak into my apartment while I was gone. Usually following the compulsive transitioning of space which would follow any shift in artistic medium or traumatic life experience. I would rearrange my apartment to help me deal with things I could not control. I would minimize my imprint within the space so that more artistic possibilities could be presented or explored more readily. She and her brother had both walked in while Nina was painting her mural, I believe. And it’s possible that Latricio may have encountered one or the other as well. I know that my ex-girlfriend, when visiting from Sweden, encountered her. I would set traps to be sure, and I was sure. No one else could get in the locked gate or had a key into my apartment.

    I thought about the stint of time where I paid more than both the individuals I shared the building with; something I learned only once my rent went up $135 when I needed the stove replaced. A stove which leaked so bad I had to cut the gas off if I was not cooking. It was the first thing you would smell upon entering my apartment at the time. It was not the first time my rent was hiked. It went up once before, just after I needed the refrigerator replaced. I had to catch the leaking water with pitchers before she believed me. When I asked for them to be my ally in an action to draw attention to the discrepancy, there were none to be found. I knew if anything else were to break, I would need to figure it out.