Where we’ve been & where we’re going

Trigger warning: Sexual assault, Suicide & mental Illness

Well, hello there- I hope you’re having a nice day.

This year has been an absolute whirlwind- so, thanks for stopping by to check out all the chaos. If you look back at my first post, it was written before I set off travelling, and I had no real goal for my art other than to earn money to keep travelling, and perhaps try to share a little more about mental illness.

Man, how things have changed.

So, for a little context, my name is Becky. I’m an artist from Ireland/ the UK doing freelance mural work and graphic design. For the last few years I’ve been recovering from PTSD, Depression, Anxiety and Complex PTSD. A lot of this was the result of S/A* and losing someone close to me to suicide.

In the early days, I really struggled to leave the house, and had developed a heavy fear and mistrust in people. However, a lot of frustration and therapy made me sit down one day decided to write a list of all the things that I no longer felt I could do. From there, I slowly began crossing off the items, one by one. That sometimes meant leaving the sofa, even if it was just for five minutes. Then it was grocery shopping with someone, then going alone- and so on.

At the beginning of this year, I decided it was time to try cross off one of the most significant items on the list: solo travel.

I started the year by whittling all my belongings down to a couple of bags and setting off to a tiny island called El Hierro, that was said to be very safe and quiet. I lived in a tiny wooden hut (the size of a 1-2 man tent) and volunteered on an eco-farm while I focused on artwork.

I just kept creating, every day, and sharing it online. However, the more I did, the more I realised that I found the most joy in creating things with a purpose and a message- and I felt like I had a lot to say (I always do, I’m a chatterbox).

For the longest time, I had felt as though recovery wasn’t something that was in the cards for me. Being hit with so much at once, I felt as though I had been through too much to just ‘get over it’ or forget what had happened. My perception of myself and the people around me felt completely shattered.

I didn’t even know which way was up when it came to moving through all the mess- I felt incredibly lost and trapped in it. I often found myself on a Google rampage looking for someone, anyone who had been through similar experiences, that could tell me that recovery was possible. I didn’t find what I was looking for, and for some time this stuck with me- It gave me very little hope that life would improve.

Back then, I told myself that if I did recover, I would have to share it. There needed to be a voice for people like myself to hear that they could get better, and that there was hope- and proof of it. So, if anything was to come from all this mess, at least I could try my best to be that voice for someone else.

So, guess where we are. This year, everything has changed drastically. I’m still recovering and there’s a lot I’m working on, but I’m in a place where I’m falling in love with life and people, and I’m not consumed or controlled by my past. I feel so incredibly free. I’m in a place now, where I know that recovery is possible- a full recovery.

So, that’s the direction my art began to take. I’m here to talk about how no matter how low you’re feeling and how much you just don’t want to continue, you can recover, and it’s worth it. Some day you’ll wake up and make yourself a cup of coffee and leave the house excited for the day ahead, and you’ll not even consider the place that you are in now. I’m so excited for you to experience that, and to see just how much is waiting for you out there.

I’ve been working my socks off, because I’m determined to make this happen, and be the person I said I’d be if I recovered. Too many of us feel incredibly alone when it’s hard, and it doesn’t have to be that way. In fact, that’s when we need others even more.

I’m still learning every day; it’s my first year as a full time artist, and it’s my first year learning to speak openly about my party bag of mental illnesses. Everything is a bit chaotic. But, every now and then I’ll receive one message from someone saying they’ve found what I’m sharing helpful- and that has been enough. So, we keep going.

My art, and everything I stand for, is about finding creative and new ways to:

• De-stigmatise mental illness

• Remind you that life does get better

• Promote creativity as a coping skill

• Create a community where people feel supported and safe to talk about mental illness

That’s what I’m working towards every day.

But, back to the story- we got quite side tracked there.

I found El Hierro challenging (as much as I loved it,) and took things at a very slow pace. Eventually, I began doing more with others and trusting myself a little.

From there, I explored Tenerife as a little, and came back to the UK for my first mural project. This was a whopper to begin on: 100m mural, 50 movie references and a whole lot of creative freedom.

What I didn’t anticipate, was the fact that this was the very next step in recovery for me. I was so excited to paint, that I forgot that I was doing it on a busy high street. The first month was overwhelming; my hands shook so much, there were days I just had to go home. But, I returned again and again and kept trying because I knew that if the triggers calmed down a little, this was something that I could love.

And I was right: mid- way through the project, I took a break and headed for Thorsmork in Iceland and volunteered in the mountains. I met an incredible group of people, and this was the first time all year that I didn‘t do art every day. The rest was well needed.

When I returned for my final three weeks on the wall, it hit me how much I had changed: I loved going to work. I was so excited to paint and meet new people while I painted. I was overwhelmed with how kind people were, and soaked it all in- I didn’t want the project to end.

However, two weeks ago, we had a party for the end of the job, I signed the piece and said my goodbyes to North Wales (for now).

Boy did we go out with a bang though.

I truly expected that the final night would be me and some close friends having a pint, but we filled up before the event even started. I could not have been more grateful or overwhelmed by it. The people that came, on top of that, were the kindest and most supportive folks. Despite all the anxiety (it’s a party AND I’ve put myself in the middle of it), the crowd made it all entirely worth it. I felt safe to be me and have a good crack at doing what I wanted to do- as much as I stumbled over my words a few times. So, thankyou if you were there.

Now, if it wasn’t wild enough, I cleared up and left the event at around 5 or 6am. A few hours later, I was picked up by my friends who brought me to Manchester Airport. I didn’t expect to find North Wales so hard to leave, but those goodbyes hit me like a truck.

I took three flights, several bike rides and matatus (taxi buses) to get to Kiwoko Hospital over a couple of days. I lost my bag in Egypt somewhere, so I arrived here with two nights of no sleep, and no anti-malarials or clothes - just my IPad and important documents. I’m having an absolute blast regardless, and some lovely folks have helped me out with what I needed.

I lived here for nine months back in 2019, so it’s great to see old friends, but also to come with a purpose that aligns with my work. I’ll be working primarily with Derek, the psychiatrist here at Kiwoko hospital. When I last visited, he was one of 43 psychiatrists in the entire country: that’s one to every million people and not much has changed since then. As you can imagine, he’s pretty swamped.

So, i‘m working with him in the communities and hospital, to bring art for therapy to patients. Many people have never seen or used paint here, because it’s an added expense. So, to create a sustainable option, I’ll be teaching people how to make their own paper, paint and materials as well. Some pieces, patients will keep for themselves, and some I will take to sell on at future exhibits (if accepted).

You’ve seen galleries: they can sell prints upwards of £20, 000 - when it’s not even the real piece. I can appreciate art, but I do believe that money could be used better. So, I’m going to try to insert this artwork into the scene, and bring more money to Derek‘s work, his patients, and those that can’t afford treatments and medications.

With my spare time, I’ll be installing murals in different facilities in the hospital, and centres for those struggling with mental health and life challenges.

This all comes out of Becky’s Art House and the money from the last mural project. So, if you want to get involved, get in touch! I’ll be setting up a Go Fund Me for anyone that might be interested in contributing to paints.

So, in summary, I’m a big fan of adventure and recovery- and sharing that journey with you, and anyone that might benefit from hearing it. I tend to volunteer where I go to stay connected to people and do something physical, but the beautiful thing about the internet and social media is the potential to reach people, no matter where I am in the world. So, I’m still grinding away at Becky’s Art House. There will be more blogs, posts & resources coming your way. I have definitely not abandoned all the lovely folks in North Wales, but I’m on my own little adventure to extend the community we have.

Thanks for the read, I hope this makes some sense of my year, and what’s to come. I’ll be pushing out blogs regularly, both about recovery and my experiences, as well as travel and how the current project is going, so if you’re not already, hit subscribe to stay up to date on the adventure.

Wishing you all the very best,

Becky

*S/A : Sexual assault