About Me
Art is therapy.
Having been grappled with autism, mental health struggles and all the associated communication barriers, I've found art to be a creative outlet to channel my thoughts, mental images, likes, dislikes, the daily goings-on onto something other people can visualize. Art has become a sanctuary where communication boundaries are transcended.
As fate would have it, amidst the chaos of health issues and uncertain tomorrows, dreams still burn. It was in these moments of vulnerability that my imagination and creativity truly began to unleash.
So, welcome to my world. Explore my collection of digital artwork channeling both my dreams as vast as the horizon and the turmoil of life, where every line tells a story and every pixel ignites imagination.
Every purchase means the world to me and shows your love and support. Keep my dreams alive and celebrate the therapeutic magic of creation, one piece at a time.
I know I missed my appointment with the intensive community treatment team a couple of weeks ago and ignored all attempts to reach me via email, text or phone...
Earlier this week, they'd had enough and reached out to my family.
So unwillingly, I had to attend today's appointment.
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I chose to stay silent
I chose to internalize my rage and feelings.
Over the next few days, whenever the possibity of having to go into hospital for treatment pop into my mind, I just couldn't concentrate and all I could feel was anger, anxiety, rage and fear.
The desire to get my physical health fixed has suddenly vanished.
It was my inpatient trauma re-lived...to say the least.
They had several senior doctors, consultants and a few other medical members how dire the situation is getting. And if I continue to ignore them and miss appointments, I'll be left with no choice but be admitted to hospital.
I felt forced, I felt left with no choice.
Upon hearing that, all the traumatic experiences of how I was treated in the past, the pain, the struggles, the fighting back... just came back to haunt me.
They even straight out asked if there was any chance I would be willing to go inpatient.
I felt intimated, anxious, ready to fight. I could feel the adrenaline rush in my body, my fist clenching.
I chose to stay silent.
I was scared.
I was enraged.
I was ready to fight.