Art in bed
In August 2022 I came to a stop. I was very excited about starting my degree and a new job but within the month I was unable to continue either. I felt like a failure, slowly dropping classes and shifts when I couldn’t keep up. My body was at its limits and I had been ignoring the signs for weeks. Including one very memorable time I rear ended a car because I was so exhausted (I only bumped it I promise).
One blood test later I discovered that the root of my issues was post viral fatigue from a virus I’d had weeks ago. It has been a part of my life ever since, sinking its claws into me until it became chronic fatigue.
It took me a long time to accept the limits fatigue dictated. I lost my independence, unable to look after myself and complete basic tasks. Just walking from my bedroom to the living room would make my head spin and my limbs ache, forcing me to sit and recover like I’d just hiked up a mountain. I was a 22 year old in an 80 year old's body, but even my grandma could walk further than me.
When my fatigue was really bad I would spend days in my bedroom, leaving only to defrost a meal from the freezer. Time stopped for me as I spent days on end enclosed in the four walls of my room. Unable to see my friends I felt isolated and alone. I was frustrated and stuck thinking about all the things I was missing out on. I was so bored of movies and my fatigue made it too hard to read books. My brain was always half asleep. I felt like my mind was moving through thick sticky fog.
Painting became my only solace in this zombie state. Everything else was too hard and overwhelming. It made the monotonous days bearable as I rediscovered my love of art and creation. I had little motivation and inspiration when I first sat down in front of my canvas. So I chose the closest thing to me, a necklace lying on my desk. When that was finished I picked up another one until an array of shiny objects covered my walls. It reminded me of a dragon and its hoard of treasure.
Painting healed the restless part of me that lamented the limits of my body. It made me accept my isolation. I thought less and less of the friends I hadn’t been able to see in weeks and the things I’d been dreaming of doing. Fatigue, which had consumed my thoughts for weeks, suddenly receded to the back of my mind as I painted the shine of a pearl.
My room had felt like a cage and my mind had become one too. But each painting I hung on the wall turned my room into a treasure trove rather than a cell. I suppose this is what a dragon does, and what we all do, fill our empty cave with things to make it feel like home, to own it. A dragon turns its isolation into its pride and joy. So I decided to embrace my limits and the time it gave me to paint rather than resent my confinement.
My Dragon Hoard will be on display as soon as I have enough shiny things, so stay tuned!
You can find Maia on instagram @maiasylvia_