Conquering Self-doubt
Published on Medium.com 8.1.19
We all have moments when self-doubt creeps into our lives. Some of us who live with the symptoms of depression experience this more often than not. Self-doubt combined with anxiety is a strong combination that fuels procrastination.
This past week I have been trying to finish something, and I am happy to say that I actually did it!
Spurred on by a call for art for a local art show, I managed to finish a piece I have been procrastinating about for more than a year. I also created an entirely new piece. Those were major accomplishments for me.
I have been isolating myself socially for about two years now. I have been afraid to put myself into a public setting where I might have to actually have conversations with people. Real conversations.
I have gone to a few art shows where the conversations have been trivial, and that suits me fine for now. I have personally been having issues with sharing too much of my own struggles inappropriately. I embarrass myself and make people uncomfortable. This is not the key to strong social networking.
As a result of my inopportune need to spill my guts in front of unsuspecting potential friends, I have not allowed myself to interact with others on a very frequent basis. The trauma to all of us is just too much.
Entering my art in a local art show was a big step for me towards getting out of my self-imposed prison of solitude.
I finished the art, which was the first step. The second step was actually taking my art to the gallery and leaving it there to be hung in the upcoming show. That was hard. I almost didn't make it.
I tried to come up with all of the reasons why I should not enter the show. The entry fee was too expensive. My art is no good. I wouldn't finish in time. No one wants to see my art anyway. I might have to explain my art to strangers. That's a big one.
This particular show is about suicide awareness, which for me means shedding light on all of those things that make me unhappy. While I am not in any danger of taking my own life, I have had thoughts about it in the past, and still wonder what I have to contribute positively to the world. Why am I even here?
My art pieces explore my emotional issues on a deeper level. I have always used art as a therapeutic tool to discover things about myself on a deeper level. I have used art to express my moods and fears. So putting my art, this particular art, into a public setting for others to see was an act of courage.
I conquered my self-doubt and did it anyway, knowing that I don't have many opportunities to show my art. I procrastinate my way around almost any chance I could utilize to become more known as an artist. I want more recognition. Wouldn't it be great to sell more art? But at the same time, I don't want to have to explain myself to others. I don't necessarily want to talk about my artwork.
Ironically, the part I like best about attending art shows is talking with artists about their work. What does it mean? Why did they create it? Is there a deeper meaning that goes beyond the surface? Artists are wonderfully deep people and I enjoy spending time getting to know them.
But me? I am still pretty sure no one wants to talk to me or get to know me. I know this stems from just coming out of a relationship with a man that never really had an interest in me as a person. I was just an accessory in his life. My childhood was similar. My parents had little interest in me and my sister absolutely wanted to avoid me at all costs.
My self-esteem has been pretty nonexistent for my entire life. That's nearly half a century of just putting up with myself without giving myself the attention that I could never get from anyone else. I see a pattern.
Putting my art in this art show was validating. Not because my work will be seen by others, but because I found the courage to do something for myself. My creativity has been my only constant. And in spite of the fact that most of the important people in my life dismissed my artistic tendencies as trivial, I persisted.
My creativity is one thing I really like about myself. My work may not be as good as others or good at all, in some cases, but I keep on creating regardless. I am a creative person. I have to create. I have to use my mind and my hands to make things. Even if people don't understand my work or it doesn't resonate with them, I still have to make it because creating makes me feel whole.
This particular art show resonates with me because of the funk I have been in for so many years. I get it.
Depression is hard to live with--get out of bed every morning and function--hard to live with. It is difficult to talk to others about what is going on in your head when you are in the grips of depression.
It is difficult to explain to people you haven's seen for years why you just dumped a load of emotional garbage into their lap when you don't understand it yourself. (Actually, it's about never being heard, and the overwhelming desire or need to just have someone listen and validate your feelings.)
So yeah, maybe I have some ulterior motive about entering my art in this show. Maybe I am looking for validation of some sort. Maybe if people see my work they will see me, or at least a part of me.
I don't want people to think I live in a dark place all of the time. My art for this show is not all of who I am, but it is a piece of me and tells the story of my journey in some little way.
I think art does that. It takes us on a journey into another place, both as a viewer and as an artist. Without expression, who would we be? Who would I be?
When I took my art to the gallery for this exhibit, it was with trembling hands that I filled out the intake paperwork. I was anxious. I was in the clutches of my own self-doubt and my inner critic was wreaking havoc on my mind.
But if ever there was a show I need right now, this is it. I need to conquer my own self-doubt and be a part of the artistic community around me, not as a bystander, but as a participant. I need to show my self-expression. I need to share my message.
I still have time to procrastinate going to the opening tomorrow night. I will be anxious and downright afraid of getting negative responses to my work. I know that won't happen. The art people in my town are wonderful, caring beings who fully understand that artists see and live life a little differently than the mainstream. For that I am thankful.
I hope I decide to go to the art opening. I need to see everyone's work. I need to see how other artists cope with the subject of depression. I need to see hope hanging on the wall. I need to experience that journey as a viewer into a different perspective so that I might gain some perspective on my own life.
If I don't go, I will never know how my work looks hanging next to the talented artists that surround me in my community. I will not get to be a part of something bigger than me. I will not get to feel the loving energy in the room when such a sensitive subject as suicide is tackled.
Everyone's life is worth something. Everyone matters. Each expression of creativity is unique and should be appreciated as such.
We can't let our own self-doubt hold us back from reaching for a dream, from striving to heal and become better, or from sharing our stories. We all matter. We all have worth. Our voices deserve to be heard.
Love is the answer.
