I am an artist. I specialize in horror. Not horrors like famous monsters or random Halloween art. I mean horrors as in the true horrors we as humans experience in our real lives and our minds.
I suffer from Bipolar type 2, psychosis, and PTSD due to being raped in my early childhood and countless cases of s***** assault and harassment in my middle to high school years. I struggle a lot with self harm. Normally, I do it so I have another pain to direct my focus to or as a way to restrict myself from doing something I’ll regret to another soul. But lately, I’ve fallen in love with the red gashes on my arms and legs. It feels normal–like they were always meant to be there. I’ve turned my body into a canvas and I can’t stop.