It is a NEW DAY. I had an epiphany of sorts, a dreaded weigh in at my Doc’s, which blindsided me with the astronomical increase in number! I’ll tell you a rather large secret: I’m only 12 pounds away from the HEAVIEST I’ve ever been.
“Growth” detail of mixed media painting by me, SusanTMartin2019Original art, SusanTMartin2026 “It’s not the dog in the fight, its the FIGHT in the dog!!”…Mark Twain“Crossing the Delaware, Well Aware” mixed media in the Permanent collection of the Ryan Licht Sang Bipolar Foundation 2017Rock On!
Almost exactly a year ago I had a total right hip replacement, added to a my other spinal surgeries, catastrophic falls and lifelong intractable pain. I thought I was so healthy- I had lost 40 pounds on Keto, I had energy and was ready (I imagined) for the surgery.
Holy Toledo! Wrong answer. The recovery was horrific. PAINFUL! COMPLICATIONS, and an idiot Physical therapist who let my leg fall off the table because all my major muscles on that side had been cut. He told me to lay my leg gently to the side, as I was lying on my back, knees bent. He was there to guard and catch it from overextending. Unfortunately, for me, he completely turned away at the exact time. The pain so intense I screamed and nearly fainted. I already had a grade 3 tear on my hamstring on that leg, with a partial avulsion, which in layman’s terms basically means my thigh muscles were nearly cut through and detached from my butt bones. So already excruciating.
All this is a preface to the fact that I let myself go and tried to eat my way back to health. Ice cream was my private nurse. Self pity my companion. Doom scrolling, couch-potatoe-ing were my favorite firm of entertainment. Nearly a year with minimal effort at physical therapy, and a fall that totally smashed my face right before the hip surgery. I have turned into a train wreck. I do not recognize myself.
It was a VERY rough year…
But I am DONE with that.
NO MORE!!!
I rejoined Weight Watchers who I used to lose 70 pounds in 2016. Tonight I tracked my meals for the first time. And tomorrow I’m going to sign up at LA fitness gym. I may not get “skinny”, but, damn it, I WILL GET STRONG AGAIN!!
Thanks for listening! Join me on my journey!!
Onward and Upward, Matey! (and DOWNWARD weight numbers!!!)
Oh Joyful heart, where are you today? From so much light I now feel only pain.
Where did my optimism run away to hide,
Why now this dread that cannot be denied?
She thought she had come away unscathed, from the turmoil, the abuse
…and rage.
But disease was just below the surface all along, and now the Piper must be paid…
Oh senseless one, unreasonable and blind, don’t mind your feeble, fluctuating mind, because as your marbles leave you, they are cast: to the wind and to infinity, at last.
She had packed up all her winter clothes, put away her childhood toys, went to bed under many uncertain memories
The Artist I. CHICAGO 2023 to attend the INSIGHTS VI Exhibition at the Zolla Lieberman Gallery. For the Benefit of THE RYAN LICHT SANG BIPOLAR FOUNDATION!!
I’ve had an excellent end to 2023, being the Special Guest of The RLSF when INSIGHTS VI headed down to Palm Beach Gardens in December. It was the greatest honor of my life! And meant ever so much more due to my Brother Eric, his wife Gail and my dear Nephew Christian being in attendance! This was held at The John Surovek Gallery, in Palm Beach.
I was interviewed by the Writer and Director of the upcoming film “Brainstorm,” a documentary about Bipolar Disorder, she is the Author of the book of the same name. Totally worth reading and definitely seeing when it airs!
So,.you see the HIGH I was riding as the curtain opened onto 2024’s stage! The sky is the limit, into the great wide open!
THE FLIP SIDE: STAGNATION BEGINS
A vision of Lonely Cat Lady future? NOOOO!
The mental brick wall crashed down rapidly as the year began… but I didn’t recognize it at first. ( A common modus operandi of sneaky, deadly Bipolar disorder). I was exhausted, sleeping all afternoon, no interest in work or play. My dear friend (who I was a caregiver for part-time) suddenly took ill and was gone in a week. Then, the back to back anniversaries of my parent’s deaths in March. My father’s on the 7th, Mom’s on the 21st. Major trauma in my psyche clinging to the violent end of Dad, these 8 years after it. Coupled with the void left of my Mom’s demise; she was the only one in my family who had ever loved me enough to learn about my Bipolar diagnosis: who understood my life’s disastrous course had been symptoms of it, not moral failing.
As the year wore on therapy helped a bit, but injury and outpatient surgery on my spine and knee just kept me immobilized, as did a bout of Covid.
A month of unexpected relocation across the state to care for an elderly aunt who was experiencing elder abuse by friends and neighbors caused EXTREME stress, as attorneys and the law were involved to try to keep her safe. Going along with this, I found that she had been victim of a Publisher’s Ckearinghouse scam; a loss of $118,000 dollars. She also purchased a house for a woman who was posing as an RN, who was in the process of attempting to change my poor Aunt’s will by going to her hospital room with a Notary in tow (where said Auntie was recovering from a stroke). This treacherous poser had actually not informed me of Aunt Betty’s stroke until 15 days after; while arranging for her to be put on hospice. The hospital had actually gone along with these plans, just on this criminal’s word that my Aunt had no next of kin and that she (criminal) was a real Nurse!!!
Note: I was able to make my Aunt’s last weeks of life more comfortable before she had 2 strokes and died. And yes, the awful, lying faker did inherit the house my Aunt purchased, while none of my family got anything. I was saddened, but am now happy to know that the rest of her estate went to The American Cancer Society and Shand’s Hospital.
Two major hurricanes, Helen and Milton have caused havoc, ripped my carport off and caused me to have to evacuate my home twice in the past 2 months; I belive these are the last of the life-changing occurrences up to now. Whew!
Writing all this down has allowed me to see how hard this year has been, and I don’t feel guilty for falling short of my goals.
It had been one bumpy ride!
Rising from the Ashes!
I am determined to push on!!! Keep climbing this hill until I reach the summit, keep reaching out for opportunities to get my business off the ground, to get a solo show and even work on grant applications again. Most of all I am getting to work on new art!!
The deadline for INSIGHTS VII will be here; much to be done!! I’m ready to face the future with HOPE and JOY!
“Bound and Blue”“Head in the Clouds”A blurry pic of my Statement in the INSIGHTS VI 2024 CATALOGUE of WorksA Beautiful Dress at INSIGHTS VI at The Surovek Gallery, Palm Beach!Kinda Cute ArtistMy painting on the Cover!!!
***Trigger Warning* This post contains adult subject matter such as mental illness and loss of life by one’s own hand***
ANOTHER FRIEND GONE:
She is young, strong and beautiful. A gymnast, so good that she teaches the sport to younger girls. Not long out of high school, not quite an adult; just shy of 21. Working an interim job while she figures out which direction her professional life should go- perfectly normal for a young woman…right?
To all outward appearances Katy seems perky, energetic and happy. Her easy laugh and warm greetings endear her to all she meets; she makes friends so easy. She couldn’t have a bad day; she’s at the top of her game as a young adult…right? I mean, isn’t she?
I think to myself, what a lovely young woman, she’s got everything going for her. I envy her youth and vitality for a minute, then I’m swept up by her joyful personality. I am now counted as a friend, too. She loves my cats, all animals in fact. She loves all animals. She also enjoys talking about food; preparing it, learning new recipes. She always asks us what we had for lunch or dinner the day before, to the point that I commented once that it was an obsession of hers. I was half joking, and a little annoyed. I realized right away that I hurt her feelings, so the subject was changed and we are fine again, all is well…or is it?
Then I learn the truth. Katy is not fine, all is not well. She is battling a huge monster, one that I am all too familiar with. I can’t believe it, but now I recognize the signs.
You see, I was in a locked psych ward once. I was young, skinny, pretty. Going to Community College in Pittsburgh. Happy, lots of friends, getting through my last year of high school. A steady boyfriend. Sure, I liked to party, and it all seemed fine to my folks. But it was not fine inside me.
I was severely depressed, and an alcoholic: a full blown addict. I hated my appearance, and would make myself vomit to keep from gaining weight. I would think dark and deadly thoughts and had attempted suicide more than once. No one understood , I never let them in. I put up a fantastic facade while I was dying inside. I had been molested as a child, raped at 13, was pregnant at 15 and my Mom had insisted I get an abortion, which she set up the day after I told her. I was so sick and sad, my boyfriend was abusive and I jumped out of his moving car one night when he wouldn’t drop me off at my house.
At the emergency room the Doctor noticed how dilated my pupils were; the dam broke as he gently questioned me- I told him everything. He helped me talk to my Mom about my drug use, my depression, being suicidal, the whole sad situation. I remember her and I at a Friendly’s, eating ice cream afterwards, how shocked she was. She had no clue. She was busy all the time, so was Dad ..how could they know???
I really worked at getting well in that stint at the Psych ward. Thirty days of intense therapy and I stayed clean for a few months after. But the mental illness and addiction raised their heads and followed me for another 17 years.
I’m alive now at 59. Clean, sober and correctly diagnosed as Bipolar. I take my meds and treasure my life.
But dear Katy is not alive. She took her own bright and beautiful life yesterday. The pain was too much. I’m so sorry, Little Sister.
I wish I could have helped. I wish you were still alive, just one more day. One more chance to choose living. Because it DOES get better, my dear friend. It would have, and you would have looked back one day, maybe with your new baby in your arms. Looked back over the dark days and thought, ” I’m so glad I didn’t take my life that day. I would have missed all these beautiful days since…”
You would be so grateful that you waited a moment, said a prayer, told someone you were hurting, made that phone call, put that syringe down, listened to that tiny voice inside saying, ” Save me, please!…”
Please, if anyone out there reads this , if you are contemplating suicide, please take that moment to stop and think past the immediate pain. Give the future you a chance at finding joy in living. Just stick around one more day, for Katy. For your Mom, or best friend. For your cat, or for your kid brother. For some other lost soul to hear your story some day…
Soon we will finally have peace , enough for everyone, everywhere. No more fighting or hatred. Love will prevail, goodness will triumph. And I will be with my loved ones again.
So I will hold on, just a little while longer. ALL the prophecies WILL come true. And I will be with you, again. Forever.
Then I decided it was high time I got serious about my art, in a financial sense. After all, that’s what artists are supposed to do right? Look for angles, ways to promote myself, improve my lot in life. My life is already half over, so make hay while the sun shines, right?
. Wrong. My rebellious side decided I don’t need anyone to finance my art. I can scrape by. I will be discovered by accident. So I lost all my wind in my sails. I will try very hard to gather myself together.
Out of the Gutter Art 
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