It doesn’t make sense anymore

2016-07-032017-03-145 Comments

A little self portrait I made in therapy 2014 about my self-image

If you are like me and you’re always moving forward, life is a series of processes and when you’ve gone through a rough time or a difficult process, another one begins. Time moves like a river, and you just follow its flow and speed with an open conscious and heart. I’ve gone through so many process since the traumas. Survival processes, telling my story out loud for the first time to myself and to therapists, making sense of trauma symptoms, mapping the triggers, overcoming destructive thoughts, feelings, behavior by practicing new ways and attitudes, acceptance and understanding, self-forgiveness, healing, letting go, starting over and building a new life, from scratch. I’ve done a lot of hard work over a long period of time (15 years). I’ve definitely overcome my traumas, I’m out in the light after spending years in darkness – however there’s a lot to work to be done in the light as well.

I’m at the point in my life where things from my past suddenly don’t make any sense anymore. Before I had some kind of twisted logic to my own behavior, excuses to explain other people’s abuse and idiocy, a distorted self-image (which seemed very realistic to me at the time) and a false sense of control (avoidance, isolation, defensiveness, compartmentalization etc). Now, it all seem weird to me. And I feel strange when I’m encountered with the old stuff. The way I see myself and my whole self image is very different now from just a few years ago. I have stopped trying to make sense of abusive behavior or trying to excuse people’s bad behavior towards me. I don’t allow them to treat me that way because I can’t find any reason for it. I am taking care of myself for the first time ever and I mean ALL of me – body, mind, heart and soul.

At times I’m faced with elements from my past and then it’s like a clash of realities and I end up feeling torn between them. It’s an awful feeling. But once I am taking control over the situation instead if letting it control me – I can move forward without falling back into old behavioral patterns. So I have to keep being in control of my own life, this is the only path to happiness and success. There are no shortcuts and nobody else has the right to that position in my life – I am the director of my life and only I can decide what is best for me. But it’s a very different approach to life if you compare it to what my life has been like where I’ve always expected other people to either save me or lead the way. I’ve grown allergic to that now. I don’t need to be saved anymore – and I ended up saving myself. I hate when people try to control me or tell me what to do. This is a sign of improving independence. I’m happy that things like that doesn’t make sense to me anymore. It really means something. Something very important.

An internal war zone

2016-06-262017-03-14Leave a comment

I’ve been in bed for the last few days with a horrible headache and an overwhelming pain in my left jaw. Perhaps it’s a toothache or maybe I have a really strong case of a sinus infection, whatever it is it feels like my whole head is an internal war zone. It’s always something. But I’m not letting this stop me from enjoying the happiness I feel inside. I have so many ideas for future artworks, I’m so inspired. I won’t let this pain or any money problems, hormone storms or anxiety stand in the way of exploring all the good things in life. My art. Writing. Pleasure. Love. Happiness. Success. Just being myself. I know it might sound like something obvious and natural, but for me it’s been a life long struggle to be able to just be myself – all the way. I mean, without allowing other people to punish or censor me.

And at times when there hasn’t been anyone to punish me, I’ve punished myself. I’m working hard to break all those destructive behavioral patterns. And I’m making progress, but it’s still very hard for me to just be myself and embrace love and pleasure without expecting a dark shadow hiding behind it. I thought getting over my traumas would be the hardest thing I ever had to do, but letting go of the fear of punishment and humiliation when embracing the good things in life is without a doubt the most difficult and complex process I’ve ever gone through. People from my past manipulated me into believing that I didn’t deserve good things, that feeling pleasure and happiness made me into a selfish person. They made me believe that I should be shamed for wanting to be myself without apologizing for it. That wanting to express myself made me into a narcissistic attention whore.

I am sort of hoping this pain in my jaw is real and not some subconscious self punishment for being so very happy. it’s a good thing that I’m doubting the pain like this, it means that the days of self punishments are over, that I’ve moved on – that I’ve moved passed their ridiculous manipulations. It’s a sign of growth.

Harmony of the core

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I feel so much gratitude for the people close to me. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have so much love and appreciation around me. I’m building a new family of friends and I have Johnny across the ocean who’s looking after me more than any other boyfriend whom I’ve shared my everyday life with, ever did. I’m painting my life with careful brush strokes. Every decision I make has a meaning and is pushing me forward instead of me clinging to what I already know. I’ve wasted so many years, tears, heartbeats and headaches on the wrong things. Stuff without substance. Destructive things that drained me. And unattainable fantasies and ghost hunting. Now I want everything in my life to be real, positive and to unfold naturally. I’m done forcing life in the direction I want, life doesn’t work that way anyway. I am accepting the fact that even if I make decisions and even if I’m leading my life in a non-forced way, life is still full of surprises and occasionally creates little mazes for me to find my way out of. But with acceptance comes a sense of inner peace. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted for myself.

There’s a big difference between being comfortably numb and emotionally paralyzed that I use to feel – and to be at peace. The serenity of the heart and mind has nothing to do with passivity. On the contrary – a vivid inner life of wants and dreams but with the acceptance of circumstances and reality, creates the perfect balance of ambition and stillness – and ultimately finding the harmony of the core. It is very difficult to get here, but once you find this place everything in life unfolds with a sense of ease and simplicity.

I killed Lolita

2016-05-312017-03-142 Comments

Today’s selfie.

The working title for the new collection of paintings is at the moment “I killed Lolita”. It’s referring to myself and the way I used to make myself submissive to my past lovers and how I belittled myself as a sexual being – and as a person in general. My very first blog [2005] was called “Little Mia”. This collection of new artworks I’m currently working on is not a ‘revenge’ thing nor an expression of a victim, but simply me returning all the crap people put on me that never belonged to me in the first place. Their judgment, sexual perversions, their dark energy, mind games, power fixation, hate, humiliation and neglect. I don’t want it. I’m getting rid of it. And I’m turning the ugly things into beautiful art. THAT is to really overcome a trauma; to reclaim everything that was ever lost or stolen from me – and turning it into something spectacular. Perhaps even turn it into magic, we’ll see when the collection is finished.

A Lolita sketch from 2010, I never finished it. The time wasn’t right. NOW it’s time to kill her.

Blog post from 2013.

I even wrote about this Lolita murder process on my old blog. 3 years later it’s finally happening. I guess I am going all in. Facing it all. Letting Lolita out to play and have fun with all the humiliation other people made her go through – hence the titles of my recent paintings: “Sperm Wounds” and “His Wet Dream” and I’m working on “Bleeding Nipples” right now.

“His Wet Dream” by Mia Makila (acrylic on wooden panel), 2015

It’s time for me to explore my inner Lolita. To find her weak spots, her power and strength – and why she’s been with me for so many years. I don’t want to portray her as a flat cardboard version of a blow up doll or simply make her into a victim. Like everything about me, there’s a lot of contradictions here; she’s seductive and that is to be in control – but then she is OK with being forced into a submissive position – why? I have a lot to explore. This will be a fun and important collection of works. I will try to make it my best one yet. And for the first time, I have a little distance to my Lolita. I’m breaking free from her and it feels amazing.

I need to kill Lolita – and my art is my weapon of choice.

Me, Lolita style, 2009.

To be special and not ‘special’

2016-05-172017-03-14Leave a comment

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Every day I surprise myself a little with my intellect and creativity. I was brainwashed and manipulated for so many years, to believe that I am stupid and incapable. That I am ‘special’ in that other way – ‘special’ like a freak. Manipulations are tricky and even if you are a smart person and even if you are very strong, there are ways for them to break you down and to groom your mind in order for them to match your thoughts with their twisted perception of things. It’s a slow process and you might not even register that it’s happening to you. And suddenly, you stop believing in yourself, you question your taste, your intellect and the value of your experiences – or you start doubting friendships, interests, hobbies, goals, dreams and desires. You lose the connection to the things you love – and instead it’s replaced by their judgment and vision of what’s right and wrong.

Here is a list of things some people close to me have manipulated me into believing:

that I am not a real artist, it’s only a hobby
that I have bad taste in movies, literature, music and just bad taste in general
that I am too naive to be smart and strong
that my seduction is an act, that is something to laugh about
that I am incapable of being independent
that I’m too stupid to be taken seriously
that I’m too short and small as a person to be of significance
that I’m unintelligent because I use my creativity and imagination where other people might focus on logic and ‘inside-the-box’ -thinking.
that I can’t have sex because I demand too much of my lovers (to be connected, sensual, seductive and expressive)
that I don’t deserve to be happy
that I don’t deserve to be successful
that I don’t deserve to express my sexuality
that I don’t deserve to be popular
that I don’t deserve to be loved
that I am selfish
that I am egocentric
that I am ugly and gross when I put on some weight
that I have no value as a writer
that I am not allowed to call myself a writer
that I should not be heard
that I should not be seen
that I am tragic because I’ve been depressed
that I am difficult because I’ve been struggling with PTSD and traumas
that I am a problem because I suffer panic attacks
that I am a social misfit because I have a lot of integrity and don’t engage in social activities
that I’m worthless

My art is the biggest part of who I am – it’s not a hobby nor does it make me a freak

The list is not a collection of my own words – these notions doesn’t reflect my own perception of myself. So I’ll let it all go. I’ll never look at myself that way ever again. I’m out of the manipulations. Their spell is broken. I am beautiful. Smart. Talented. My art is amazing, not a hobby but my legacy to the world. And I am special – in a positive way and not as a freak. Well, I don’t mind being called a freak if by freak you mean ‘I’m proud of who I am without apologizing for it!’. If so – then I’m a very proud freak!

“Painiverse” – My space suite [2013]

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Selfie from 2013 – in the process of making the tough decision to let my life fall apart in order to unchain myself from my past

Before I made the decision to break free from the chains of my past and to leave my whole life behind to be able to start over in a new place – I was dealing with the heavy weight of this decision in a suite of digital images of Space, void, loneliness, distance and isolation – but also with a slow movement through the darkness – orbiting a core – the gravity of freedom.

“LOVERS LOST IN SPACE” by Mia Makila – digital

“SUCTION” by Mia Makila – digital

“ATTRACTION” by Mia Makila – digital

From my diary 2015:

The view from the top floor is nothing but a white sky. It’s too cloudy for me to be able to see beyond the whiteness. But there is a black stain somewhere in the white. I look closer. Now I can see that it is the smallest Universe. Space. Darker than anything I have ever seen. I realize that this little micro Universe is my pain. An old pain, it doesn’t exist anymore – and now it’s a memory in the shape of fear.

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I suddenly understand that inside this dark Universe is everything I have ever known about myself. About life. About love. Pleasure. Happiness. It is so tiny – but when I am floating around in it – it feels infinite. Once I am inside it, it is a closed world, it becomes my everything and I become the only detail inside it. I can’t see that the world outside is infinite, and that I’m just swallowed up by a ridiculous little stain – insignificant even though it’s packed with pain. Once I am consumed with this world, swallowed up by it and reconciled with the pain, I feel free.

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It’s just me and the dark void. Nothing else. I let go of any resistance. I let it take me deeper inside. I am so lost – but I feel part of something familiar and absolute. There is nothing but me and the familiarity of the darkness. Nothing can hurt me here. Because I am already floating through the pain or the memory of it.

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It is my ‘Painiverse’.

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Photos from a walk in the moonlight, a week after the break up 2014

The time right after my decision to break free, my life started to fall apart in the most wonderful way, and my digital art changed as well – the planets grew smaller and turned into important details in a new mythology that mirrored my new life. Here are works from 2014:

“The Taste of Time and Paranoia” (digital)

“NOT A PHALLUS” BY MIA MAKILA – 2015 (DIGITAL) Edition of 5, 40 x 44 cm, PRICE: 7500 SEK

Out of the Nothing Box (detail)

Out of the Nothing Box (digital)

I’m staring right into the eyes of death. Or love. Whatever. That’s when I feel your bullets hit me right in the heart. Bullets of fire. I can’t breathe. I don’t want to.
I can feel how everything is destroyed. Or saved. Or whatever. Blackbirds, blood moons, lion breaths, rotten flower beds – like fireworks above it all. Exploding within and inside.

And I realize – I don’t know the difference between love and a beautiful murder. – MIA MAKILA, 2014

A taste of Heaven and Hell

2016-05-112017-03-142 Comments

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Yesterday, the hormone storm returned. I’m always unprepared and terrified when it happens. – and I get buried underneath a heavy fog of fear and hopelessness. At times I feel like I don’t want to exist anymore – and that’s not me. But that’s how deeply affected we are by hormonal changes. Some women get anti depressants during these days each month, but I’m skeptical when it comes to medication. I guess it goes in line with the fact that I’m against drugs and alcohol.

But I have new ideas for writing projects and I am starting my new job at the gallery tomorrow. Good things are happening and I’m holding on to those when I feel a little lost. My life is finally starting to look like a real life and not just a pile of a broken pieces. I have love in my life, I am creating art again, I’m making new friends who means a lot to me – and I have a new job. My life looks so different now. I can’t believe how many years I spent in bed, or wearing a robe just because I wasn’t doing anything. My life had lost its purpose and I got lost in the comfort of the everyday life routines. That’s why I can never get too comfortable in my life. I am highly allergic to it. But of course, I don’t want my life to be uncomfortable either – I’ve been living in the sufferings of traumas for almost 20 years and it’s just a living hell. There has to be a balance between the comfortable and the uncomfortable. To not be suffering but not falling asleep and get lost in the security of life.

woa

Even if I still have days with anxiety and panic attacks, it’s nothing compared to how it used to be. Now, the anxiety only last a day or two. I feel very grateful. And it’s an evidence that all my hard work to overcome the PTSD symptoms have paid off. I am proud of the journey I’ve made. Now, it’s time to continue the journey – and I know it will take me to wonderful places. I’ve been to Hell, perhaps I’ll get a taste of Heaven too. Who knows?

The Alice syndrome

2016-05-052017-03-14Leave a comment

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Ok, so I lied in one of the posts yesterday. I said “it’s not that I am full of doubts” but I guess that’s not completely true. I’ve been struggling with self doubt this week. I am not interested in coming off as a successful person on my blog. Someone who is always in control of her own destiny or knows exactly what she’s doing. I want to be real. Sincere. Honest. About what it’s like to be a person who’s overcome really shitty situations and who’s trying really hard to find a place in the world – a place of happiness and peace. A place where I can be creative and flourish as an artist and as a writer.

Living inside a trauma was hell, surviving the trauma was very hard, living without it is confusing. But I am doing my best, believe me. This is the true story about how I am working towards success and happiness. Some days I do the Alice-shrinking-thing and I feel small and anxious. Other days I feel very strong and focused. It’s all part of the same journey I am making to reach my goals and dreams – and I have accepted its ups and downs.

Unfortunately, it’s very easy for me to get sucked into Alice’s rabbit hole and end up feeling really small. But it’s never in any wonderland – instead it’s always in the ‘normality’ of reality. Normality scares me. It’s like a maze full of outside pressure, expectations and social rules which I don’t understand. I just want to be me in the world outside my own inner wonderland. But I have never been able to do that without getting lost somehow. I hope that one day I’ll learn how to find my way through the maze.

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A ‘near-life’ experience

2016-04-282017-03-142 Comments

How can I explain this to you? I’m not sure that I completely understand it myself. Ok, so you know that feeling when you’ve had too much coffee – your hands are trembling, your heart is beating really fast and you feel sort of hyper? And you know that feeling of being really, really in love – it’s like you’ve swallowed the whole Universe and it’s overwhelming and wonderful at the same time? OK, so add the feeling of being deeply inspired (like after a day at the Louvre) and intensely horny (after the best foreplay ever) – that’s how I am feeling right now. All of that – mixed into a very strange sensation of having a ‘near-life’ experience.

I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’ve been posting a lot of poems written in Swedish lately- I wish I could translate them but it’s impossible because I play with words a lot. I had no idea that I would be writing poetry like this. In Swedish. I have been planning this year to the last little detail:

1. self-empowerment process
2. go back to painting again
3. find a way to make more money
4. write a short story

Writing poetry was not part of the plan, but I guess that’s the nature of plans – life will change them without asking for your permission. Thank God. And now, I just can’t stop writing. I was so focused on reconnecting with my paintings again that I didn’t see how anything else could ever be even a bigger release. But that’s exactly what my poetry is to me. A big. Fucking. Release.

I’ve done so many changes in my life lately and I feel so liberated. And with that comes a sense of innocence. Like I returned to innocence after my traumas. And like anything is possible. Like I can do anything I want. Be whatever I want to be. Say whatever I feel like saying. I’ve never been this private in my creative expressions before. They are all self-portraits. Diary notes. My core beliefs. It feels really powerful. Explosive.

As I am writing these poems, I feel lighter in my heart. Like my blood has been clogged by such deep pain – and now it’s rushing through my veins without any resistance. The pain is fading into the past. Into a void beyond my reach. It used to be sharp as a blade. Infinite. Swirling into itself and out again. For the first time I can see what has been hidden underneath it. It’s me. Life. Love. Light. Poetry. Art. Passion. Sex. Humility. Gratitude. Peace. Freedom.

It makes me feel high, even on foggy days like yesterday.

My blood is rushing. Fast. My mind reigning. I feel clean. But so filled with stories. Colors. I’m deep into my own thoughts but still extremely present in the world outside myself. I’m absorbing everything and I let myself get absorb by external elements.

I wish everyone could feel awakened like this. We all deserve it. We are all capable. We just have to let go of all the layers of crap that other people and society have forced on us. It’s hard to do. But possible. Just look at me. Look inside me.

It’s the only way I know how to explain what I’m going through right now.

Endings and new beginnings

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https://youtu.be/TR6DFn5Ibjk

The last scene of Six Feet Under – with music by Sia: “Breathe Me”. A collection of endings.

It’s a new day. Spring is coloring my apartment in a pale blue light. I’m watching the last episode of Six Feet Under. I don’t like endings. Not even in TV series. But even so, endings have always resulted in something very positive in my life. Like the end is the first step into a new world, full of possibilities. I like new beginnings. Clean slates. Which of course goes hand in hand with endings.

After every crashed relationship, I’ve grown and flourished. After friendships gone sour, I’ve found a deeper understanding of how connections work. Letting go of a destructive entanglement with another person is liberating. Cutting off strings attached to a dark energy is healthy. There are so many ways for people to die and still be alive. It could be your own perception of them that dies when they reveal their true colors. They could lose themselves in various ways. To religion, to other people, to self doubt, to hopelessness and depression. They disappear from your heart and from your life.

When I think about the people in my life it’s like I’ve been a train station where people have come and gone in a flow of different energies. The only people who have always stayed with me throughout my whole life are my parents and Nanci, who’s been my best girlfriend for more than 20 years. I still talk to some other childhood friends but we’re not that close. The rest of them are gone in one way or another. Lovers. Friends. Colleagues.

Me and Nanci.

I’m always moving forward – like the land shark I told you about in an earlier post. I’ve met some amazing people on my journey. And some dark and poisonous souls. I think they have all rubbed off on me – for better or worse. They’ve all helped me shape my inner mythology.

In the last few years I’ve met some of the most beautiful people. I’ve made new friends who feel like they are part of a family somehow. A family I’ve put together myself. New brothers. Sisters. Mentors. Muses. And then I fell in love with my best friend Johnny, who had been there for me throughout other crashed connections and painful mistakes during 3 of the most difficult years of my life. He was always there for me during all my fragile attempts to look for momentarily thrills elsewhere – which always destroyed me somehow. His unconditional love has been a safe haven for me. A place to heal. A place where I am never judged or punished. A place of freedom. Where I am allowed to be myself without feeling awkward and wrong in my most vulnerable moments of fear and freak outs.

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The concept of a lasting connection almost feels foreign to me. I feel vulnerable when I think about it. I know It’s a trust thing. I have to trust myself to surround myself with trustworthy people. I have to trust those people not to hurt me or betray me, something I’m way too used to. I have to trust life to be kind to me from now on. I am looking for lasting connections. I’m looking for things that moves with me instead of me growing out of them. I want a home that doesn’t crumble or falls apart. A home that’s isn’t an illusion of safety. Or an illusion of love. A home without a ghost.

All of those painful endings led me to this place where I am free to build whatever I want for myself. New connections. New boundaries. New rules. A new home. A new life. But I won’t forget the tears that brought me here. After all, water is the birthplace to every new life. Even in my paintings, I’m mixing the colors with water to bring new life to an empty canvas. I am deeply grateful for what I have in my life right now. And it was all born out of something painful that died and got buried in time – which created a space for a new life. To live.

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Just like in the very last scene of Six Feet Under where Claire drives off in her avocado green hearse to start a new life for herself someplace else, after a painful goodbye to her old life and the people in it. Endings are bittersweet. And new beginnings are awfully exciting and scary. And so fucking amazing.

Not wanted for who I am but for what I have to give

2016-04-132016-04-14Leave a comment

I am suddenly reminded of who I used to be. Other people’s coldness makes me feel like my past is starting to breathe again. My inside turns into a closed box. Inside the box is a smaller version of myself – screaming but without any sound.

Realities clashing. Still no sound. Muted rage. And I’m standing here like a time traveler.

I am reminded of who I used to be in a time where nothing was solid. Not even time itself. Time was broken. There was a glitch in the timeline. And missing pages in a long story.

I am reminded of who I was in that story.

A girl who wanted so much to feel wanted. For all the things she kept inside the box. All the wild and free butterflies of her youth. And the bleeding house inside her chest.

She didn’t know it was a misunderstanding. She was never wanted for those things. Not even for her green eyes. Not for her talent. The nuances of her smile. Not for the depth of her soul. Or the welcoming heart between her legs.

Not even for what she had to give. But for what she was willing to let them steal from her.

Butterfly after butterfly on a plate. Delicate wings with the most delicious taste of innocence. A blood house torn apart by their hunger for more than she had to offer.

When the girl wanted something in return there was nothing but silence and rejections.

Empty faces. Humiliation. Ejaculations.

Frozen leftovers. Dirty plates. Zero butterflies.

I still remember the feeling of being her. The loneliness. The excruciating vulnerability.

Unwanted memories. Unwanted coldness. Toxic words. I don’t want it.

I don’t offer myself on a plate to other people anymore. I don’t have anything to give to people who don’t appriciate me. The memories are fading along with the sense of their frigid love.

I’m not that girl anymore. In a way, I never was. It was just a big misunderstanding.

Six feet above

2016-04-092016-04-09Leave a comment

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Another creativity hangover. I’m exhausted and need some rest. I’m so into Six Feet Under right now. It’s one of my favorite TV series to revisit. The theme of Death goes perfectly in line with the recent contemplation about my own mortality. The timing of this obscure theme is not too odd – since the only view from the windows of my apartment is of the old cemetery across the street.

When I think about my existence – my own life, I feel deeply moved. I am grateful for the love I have in my life. For the people who appreciate my inner worlds and want to be part of them. I have lost many things in my life, loss has been haunting me since I moved out from home as a teenager. But in each and every loss, I have found something really important in its void. Underneath the surface. I’m not saying I am happy it happened, but I wouldn’t be who I am today if it wasn’t for the things I found when something was taken from me. The more I’ve been mentally and emotionally stripped away by other people, the more naked and real I have become to myself. And that is priceless. The more they took from me, the more I found within myself. It’s not important what they took – it’s all about what I was able to achieve in spite of their greed and selfishness. Nobody can ever take THAT away from me.

It’s ironic – when I first met the abusive man I was only 18 and wrote this little poem to him: “Out of the sweetness of our innocence, we will rise and find our true selves.” – he stole my sense of innocence and because of that I have been forced to make a long and painful journey to the person I am today. Above and beyond all the crap he put me through. I am not buried underneath the traumas anymore. I have climbed at least six feet above it – where the view is absolutely spectacular.

So, I am grateful for how my life turned out. Even though it’s been stained with so much pain and grief. But I use the stains in my art – they are important to my artistic expression. The day when they’ll finally bury me six feet under, those stains will still hang on other people’s walls and be cherished and loved – so in a way it all worked out fine.

MIA MAKILA

★ SWEDISH POP SURREALISM ★

Tag: overcoming trauma