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Conversations, Companions, & Canvases

A wholesome and somewhat dark story about a young girl who becomes close friends with her canvases to heal from trauma, to learn, and get advice.

By Alani MedlockPublished 3 years ago 6 min read
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'Bug Brain' Multimedia Canvas by Alani Medlock

Disruptive Mood Dysregulation Disorder (DMDD) makes for a childhood of extreme irritability, anger, and frequent, intense temper outbursts. This lovely disorder was gifted to me around what society calls “the terrible twos.” Though, my irritability in a car led to more than just a normal toddler tantrum. One moment I would be the happiest kid in the world, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the gentle breeze on my skin playing pattycake with my friend on the lawn. The next moment, though--actually during an outburst I did not retain any memory of the events that followed so there’s not much description to be given other than when I awoke from my rage-slumber I found myself grounded and my poor friend nowhere to be found.

I always loved making friends and spending the entire day until dusk playing tag. I would argue I was a truly wholesome girl under the baggage of anger. At least that is what I remember. Undependable memory was a huge part of my development as a child; I could not trust the memories I had because the world told me things that did not align with my memory. If nobody told me the outburst events that occurred because of me, I would have never known something had happened. This highly disturbed me. Once, I ran to my mother crying, “please get this demon out of my head, I don’t want to hurt people anymore.”

In fact, I struggled with such rage much longer than the irritable toddler age and it went on through grade school. By the time precious, fired-up me got diagnosed, I was eleven years old and had a two-inch-thick file of “incidents” from the previous years. After a while of ineffective treatments, I felt a huge shift of authority in my mind. I practically kicked this disorder out the window and pulled up a nice comfy seat at the control panel. Nothing was in my way of controlling my actions except me, the real me. I used to be a heartless, mindless doll, living infinitely in a vast deep of muck that sealed my eyes shut. The endless night finally ceased as the sun rose for the first time. The light shone on me welcomingly and said to me “your prison days are over.”

I began overflowing, a teaspoon drowned in the perfect love of the ocean. I had never known of happiness, purpose, or drive until they breached my mind and moved in. I developed passions and dreams, and I had goals to reach. I became fascinated by how the smallest delicate whisper of the brush could impact the entire tone of the piece. Not only was painting an outlet for me to express myself, but it was truly a place my art itself could speak to me. A place where I could learn about myself through a canvas. Deep conversations through the medium became a weekly occurrence and a joyous date I eagerly waited for. I interacted with many canvases, each having a different story to tell, different thoughts and feelings. They comforted me- the canvases- they teach me the importance of grace and self-love. They taught me how to see the world vividly and they listen when I am overwhelmed. The connection I formed with each of them was so meaningful, so authentic and so vivid.

As I grew older and my connection to them grew stronger, I started getting new neurological symptoms that were unrelated to the first disorder I had as a child. I couldn’t handle cold temperatures anymore, go on roller coasters, or even stand without blacking out. I searched for answers everywhere but only the canvases could soothe my anxieties. They told me one day, “help the others like you.” I began to wonder why we, the “most intellectual” beings on earth, knew more about the stars millions of light-years away than we knew about the minds within us. Who else is undiagnosed, confused, and scared like me? At this point, I was like a child that just had four Red Bulls and at the starting line in a marathon- full speed ahead! I want to discover the mysteries of the mind, I want to diagnose the undiagnosable and treat them so they can live the full happy life they deserve.

It was then that I set the goal of becoming a neurosurgeon and clinical researcher. I enrolled in a medical-based high school and devoted my life to the system of education and tagged my companions from before along. They helped me get through the stressful days trapped in a building of raging hormonal teenagers. I know I annoyed them sometimes with all the talk of the things I learned in my biotechnology and psychology courses, but I still know they are happy for me because when our conversations end, they always gift me with a calm mind and a beautiful story to log my growth.

After meeting with the new canvas and discussing our lives, dreams, wishes (all that icebreaker stuff), we got to work right away. We decided to spend most of our time addressing the biggest passion I have, my interest in neurology. We used geometric shapes from magazines to form the brain that I am so deeply interested in and want to pursue. We discussed the chaos in my life and how the colors were a bit too vibrant for me to handle alone- reintroducing society after the isolation of quarantine has been very overwhelming- so we incorporated that into the story. They were proud of me for prioritizing my time to have these beautiful, therapeutic conversations because of the impact they can have on my life. When the canvas and I finished our long conversation, all the love and beauty can be seen throughout the story. My passions, desires, dreams, aspirations, and even my hardships. In this therapy session, I was given some tough love to prioritize my mental health and time to care for myself just as equally as I prioritize and pursue my passion.

This is one of many lessons I have learned from the stories we created, and that is why I love to paint. No painting truly ends up the way I want it to, because sometimes the canvas has more for me than what I planned. That is the difficult part of being an artist, you can create what you want to create, but sometimes your art has more to tell, sometimes it will change the narrative of the story you want to express, and in turn, teach you beautiful life lessons.

Life is fruitful and beautiful, and life will still always find a way to distract, to worry, and, to challenge you. However just because those exist, does not mean the beauty is gone; we just have to know where to look. No matter how full my schedule gets with whatever life graciously gives me, making time with my dear companions and continuing to tell my story through them is a priority. Those conversations lead to so much growth and healing. Sometimes, those conversations just give me a good laugh and remind me of joy in times when I feel blue. I love my canvases and the stories they show from our past discussions, because they show how much I have grown, and they are always reminding me to check my actions align with my morals. Until the right day, at the right time, with just the right amount of Earl Grey, I’ll be patiently taking notes to walk through with my newest canvas, awaiting the next lesson.

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About the Creator

Alani Medlock

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