Thursday, April 20, 2017

Being born

I was born on a rainy day of September 1988. According to my mother I was a “planned pregnancy” and her dream was to have a daughter. The reality of that was deep, deep, in her mind; she would have been too happy if she had had a baby boy. 

I know, you must think: how could you say that? Any mother would be happy to have a healthy baby no matter the gender. Let me stop you right there, not everyone can be a mother, not everyone should be a mother, period. Unfortunately we live in a society that makes you believe in order to function properly as human being is to go to school, go to college, work, marry and have children.

I was a slightly complicated case already; after 20 hours of labor the doctor performed a c-section because she wasn’t dilated enough to get me out. The OR temperature was cold, too cold for me because and I’m very sensitive to low temperatures. The recommended temperature range in an operating room is between 68°F and 75°F. Collaborate with infection prevention. Consequently, I develop from that moment sinusitis or as a psychologist once told me, the reason for that sinus was the physical response to my mother’s rejection at birth.

When I was finally born and the gender was confirmed, a gorgeous baby girl (I just added gorgeous) the expression on my mom’s face changed completely from happy to upset. Being her daughter already upset her, nice start. She couldn’t help it I was not her bundle of joy, I was a burden, a curse, a penance for life.

She held me in her arms when she was discharged from the hospital, she told my father she wasn’t feeling strong enough to hold me the three days spent in the hospital. Who can blame her? My mother is mentally ill, therefore, the task of motherhood will be hard for her. I was the reason for her emotions sinking into postpartum depression. Postpartum depression is temporary, the mother feels extreme sadness, emptiness, and hopelessness, cries all the time, have loss of interest or lack of enjoyment in your usual activities, is being uninterested in the baby, or unable to care for her, or even overwhelming feelings of worthlessness or overpowering guilt, and the list can go on but I'm just going to live it like this.

In rare cases, like my mom’s who suffers from paranoid schizophrenia she could experience delusional thoughts or hallucinations and may harm me. Moreover, she believes others plot and conspire against her. People with paranoid schizophrenia tend to fare better than those suffering from one of the other subtypes. They can experience fewer issues with concentration, memory, and emotional apathy, allowing them to function better in everyday life. And as she never received proper treatment, logically you can expect why until this day we don’t have a solid loving mother-daughter relationship and I found out about her condition 2 years ago.

My father missed my birth, because his wife passed away the same day. Yes, he was married at the time and not to my mom, she was the mistress.

His wife died from a respiratory arrest which is the cessation of breathing due to failure of the lungs to function effectively. She just stop breathing, due a complication of an asthma attack she had when she found out about the baby my father was having; it was too much for her. Leaving behind 3 teenagers conceived in the marriage.

My grandparents and uncles found out the next day, my mother’s relationship with them wasn’t the best either. According to my mom’s they were the reason of her misfortune, me.

When I was 4 months old my parents sent me to a baby-day-care; she needed to work, be productive not being at home with me, notwithstanding, she didn’t want to finish the maternal leave when it was supposed to.

If you like this story and want to read what’s next, leave a comment down below or wait until next week when I’ll post the second part of this story.

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

The Oh hooman! series

Lately on social media I've been posting pictures of my dogs staring at my food like saying: 'oh hooman! give me just one bite!'. They always have a treat after I take the picture, I'm not cruel to them.

Here's a collage of those pics!


@juliaspaintings on Instagram

Carmina Burana - BBC Proms 1994

My favorite of all time!

 It is based on 24 poems from the medieval collection Carmina Burana. Its full Latin title is Carmina Burana: Cantiones profanæ cantoribus et choris cantandæ comitantibus instrumentis atque imaginibus magicis ("Songs of Beuern: Secular songs for singers and choruses to be sung together with instruments and magic images"). Composed by Carl Orff in 1935.

 My favorite song is ''O Fortuna'' it has a glorious start, I'm possessed by it as the song plays. I listen to this compilation when I need some time out or I'm writing or painting, is my muse, it makes inspiration runs through my whole body as the notes reaches high and the result of work is amazing!

 I like Classic Music very much, I'll be sharing more about this topic.

Stay tuned!


Tuesday, April 4, 2017

16 hours...

On March 15th at 2:00pm my headache started, I did not have the strength to tell him that I was in pain so he won’t worry. I needed to stay silent, keep the aching thoughts in my head, he has suffered enough. Because earlier that day I had a crisis, mild, but emotionally exhausting for both of us; my body have had gotten stiff, rigid, I had no facial expressions, my brain shut down leaving me unconscious for few seconds, my heart is sore. Also is his.

Depressions kicks in, I have no choice other than welcome my friend to my life once again, we belong together.

It wasn’t a simple headache, it was blurring my sight, my happiness, my body, extending the pain to every cell, to every muscle, to every inch of me.  Many ideas come to my already congested mind, one of them was to end up my life and forever be pain free. Then I thought about taking some painkillers; but I wasn’t able to do it. I supposed my will power and my primary need was to stay sober were stronger than the painkillers; I knew that if I took a single pill, it could have gotten from 1 every 6 hours to 2 pills per hour, as I used to do.

It's 2:00 am and I'm still in pain, it’s been 12 hours with this suffering. How I was able to cope with so much agony. I suppose there are worse things you can go through; but at that moment there is only one thing in my head, ache.

Since I didn’t have a wide range of positions while lying in bed, so I decide to turn on my left side, I was tired to being staring at the wall for hours now. Suddenly, my eyes were contemplating the most beautiful sight in the world. There he was, submerged in a deep sleep; relaxed and serene, he was so peaceful lying in bed with me that all negative thoughts were vanished before the feel of his skin, his smooth soft skin and his hair on the gray scale. I got lost watching him sleeping...

I was running out of time, I need ransom. I woke him up and told him what is happening to me. I felt his reaction through the dark room... his eyes leapt, his pupils dilate, concern took over his body. And what does my hero do to save me from the curse?, takes my hand and gently touch it until I fall asleep and the pain is diluted like water between his fingers. His love heals, his love nurtures, his love fills me with happiness. It was exciting to be able to wake up at 6:00 am and see his freckles covering his body and those magnificent brown eyes brighten up his face.

He is my hero and always will be, he saved me from my worst enemy, me.

@juliaspaintings on Instagram
I did it I have another day to live, by his side.

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Don’t know how to title this

I just don’t know yet. But the title will change eventually.

I would like to share something I wrote last year when I was going through a mood swing and not a nice one.

The first impression it really matters? I don’t think so, and hey I’m one of those who have judged or have think about a person or something with just the first impression…

I've analyzed those first impressions of my paintings and what people “see in them” and I’m like, ah?? no… that’s not what I meant with this painting. And that’s because there are 2 types of people, the one who thinks he can analyzed you by the first impression and the other one who has more open minded and even whether they like your work or not they share really interesting insights.To the first type of person let’s call them the “psychologist” sounds harsh but really, I’m not even asking you what do you think of me because I love to paint crows… No… I didn’t ask for an opinion. My advice to fellows amateurs artists don’t ask “what do you think of my painting?” just don’t. You won’t need that, make your artwork so beautiful that it will just speak for itself.

I’m going to share with you one of the most frequents opinions I get: ‘oh, you must be really depressed to keep painting those dark birds’ ehmm…. nope. I’m not. Be careful if you suffer from depression because you will have a huge tag on your forehead saying DEPRESSION and people will focus on criticizing and not helping you at all. I just ignored the comment and say No, I’m not. Don’t get hooked by those types of comments.

The “Psychologist” just thinks that he has the right to tell you what you should be doing with your life. Don’t give other people the power to decide what it’s best for you unless you’re in a very difficult situation and need help. People think they know a lot about depression but the truth is they really don’t, it is a complicated matter that the best person to guide you is a certified therapist (Psychologist or a Psychiatrist).

The second type of people are the ones I called “Wisdom people” my favorite kind of people because some can like my birds and some don’t, but they give to me the most interesting insights, history and facts about my birds or the techniques I’m using, These people are intellectuals, true thinkers, and they are a fountain of knowledge, surround yourself with those kind of people. You will learn something for sure and you can have an amazing feedback. Just be careful, the “Wisdom people” is pure true knowledge, more information; not approval. The only approval you need is yours and if you believe in your work it will get known. Unless someone is paying you for your artwork, then you're submitted to their opinion.


Nowadays, I manage much better my mood swings, I just go to the flow and know when I need time apart from people and when I need to gather with people. I'm aware of the limitations I have and also know how to cope with dysthymia. I'll be sharing with you what I paint, what I draw, what I write and the evolution of my mental health.

Thanks for reading!


Starting point

Writing is one of my hobbies, so having this way to express myself and share interests, my paintings, what book I’m reading or even talk about breaking social stigmas about mental illnesses it makes me happy. That’s why I’m dedicated to painting crows or ravens it’s magic for me.

I’m in my late, late 20’s and I sound like an old lady writing and talking believe me! You’ll see in further posts… But that is because my life hasn’t been the best life you can think of. I had a rough childhood my mom is schizophrenic and my father was and still is like a shooting star phenomenon that you could only see every million years… Just to give you a start…

This post it is not about my childhood maybe in another post I may write about what it was like to live with a mentally ill mother and an absent father.

For now, the important thing is that I’m happy now, more than I could ever imagine and I have the husband and family I choose to have and always wanted.
My blog is for those people who are taking care of their mental health and also love art and ravens! Of course if you do like my blog regardless of what I mentioned before, welcome! Is nice to have you here!

You can have a preview of my work in my Instagram account @juliaspaintings
I hope you’re having a great week, see you in my next post!

Sunday, August 28, 2016

Not everything can be forgotten...

Not everything can be forgotten but we thought we do...

Sometimes we do things that we really love and we're really good at but there's something deep in your very own mind that breaks all the dreams, the hopes that you had. So,  you stop doing what you love because a "social stigma dictates" that you should be doing something else.  It's a sabotage made by a parent, a wife, a friend or even yourself. Stop that! Keep doing what you love, what inspires you.

That happened to me many years ago when I was a kid, I used to love painting and drawing and my parents knew it. When I told my mom that I wanted to take some painting classes she sign up my brother instead of me and I felt awful, my insecurities started feeding from my mind and my thoughts told me that I should stop painting because I wasn't good enough...

Years went by.... and now at my almost 28 years old I started painting again, it wasn't great at first but I was relearning an old craft. Now, I feel very confident of what I do. It's my own way to paint my thoughts, my mood swings (the good and the bad ones), my dreams, everything. I just love it.

I'm not planing to become an "Artist" like Picasso, no. My plan is to go with it and enjoy it, so maybe who knows in a future or a galaxy far, far away I decided to make it official.

This is my latest painting, it's a Raven I called it: All in me. My animal spirit is a Raven, they are intelligent, smart and very capable of adapting to hard situations. We both are warriors.