PTSD Artwork & Text
All Content Property Of
Faye H. Heft
Copyright 2020
Last Updated 5/27/2020
WARNING: WRITING AND/OR PICTORIAL CONTENT MAY TRIGGER DISTRESS IN VULNERABLE INDIVIDUALS.
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ART AND TEXT 4
Drawing 40: My Battlefield
Drawing 41: Fine
Dining
Drawing 42: The Doctor
Drawing 40: My Battlefield. 7/4/18.
The battle is trying to stay in the Present; embracing what is real: My Doctor, My Dog, My Surroundings. As I sit in The Doctor’s Office fog fills the room. I double. I am real and not real. My eye, face and hands disappear. The fog has memories inside it: parents, hospitals, surgeries, and an unhappy house.
As I draw or write about this experience I dissociate again. I try hard to focus on the beauty in my life: a quiet sun filled room, a constant companion, my art, the help of a friend, The Doctor.
I hope I find the skills I need to leave my battlefield behind.
Drawing 41: Fine Dining
8/13/18
On the Menu: Parents, Relatives, Doctors, Nurses, Teachers, Friends, Co-Workers, Every one who overlooked me.
I am angry enough to eat the World.
Serve it up.
Drawing 43: Self Care
Drawing 42: The Doctor 9/6/18 He listens. He hears. He knows how to help. He is constant.
Drawing 43:
Self Care 11/20/18
SELF CARE IS: All of it is a realization of the ways I took care of myself from birth to 66 years old. In a way, even dissociating could be thought of as a form of self care. If I was alone, then I will let five images of me keep me company. If my mother couldn’t protect me, I will be a mother to myself. If need be, at 66 I will give birth to myself! I will love all of my selves. I will love myself. I will acknowledge that I took care of myself as best I could until I understood.