I’ve created a lot of sketches, so I’ll break them up into multiple posts.
Some of these sketches have serious trauma behind them. Please keep in mind that I use art as therapy, so some content might be triggering.
Title: Bleed For Me
This was my first attempt at a complex composition. I spent an entire evening on it, and I’m quite happy with the results.
If I love you, I would die for you. I will bleed for you. Emotionally, if not physically. I don’t want partners in my life who won’t throw themselves on the emotional blade for me. We’re going to cry. We’re probably going to raise our voices. I’m passionate and emotional, and I feel everything at 11. But I love harder than most people because I know how much it hurts to lose it.
Title: I am not okay
This is my second composition, and honestly, my favorite. It resonates so much with my inner world (and my serious obsession and co-dependency on Jelly Roll’s music). During my most recent psych hospital visit, I wrote the lyrics to the song on my room’s whiteboard on day two and read them every day until it was time to go. Did I leave too early? Hell yes. But did it matter? No, because the shit storm I left behind was waiting right where I left it when I got home. 15 years of marriage to my best friend? Over. My family home where my kids grew up? Not my home anymore.
Do I regret it? Nope. Toxic marriages are soul-crushing, despicable things created by people who started with the best of intentions and got lost along the way, and underneath the rubble of life. Outside of that toxic marriage, I’m rebuilding my relationship with my children and my friend. Having my children forgive me for the things I did when I was out of control is worth all of the pain. Getting my family to a place where we love each other again, even if that love looks a lot different now? Priceless.
Title: Broken Like Jack and Sally
Divorce started in October 2024. Completed in June 2025. Using sketch pencils to work through emotions. Therapeutic.
Title: Hall of Shame
I’ve always had a fixation with imagery in the style of Tim Burton. This is evidenced by my insane collection of Nightmare Before Christmas items (I even put it on my body in tattoo form as well as Sparky from Frankenweinie!). This piece gives me those vibes.
Title: Too Much
Not much to say about this one that it doesn’t say for itself.
Title: The Weight of Mental Illness
It is intentional that the thought bubble of criticism is incomplete.
Title: Creepy Vibes
Just playing around with learning to draw a human hand and letting my imagination wander a bit.
Title: Suffocating
When all of my mental illnesses are active, it feels like my brain is trying to suffocate me. I struggle to breathe, to think, to function. I reach out to my support people because it lets in a little air. When nobody is around, I have to find ways to distract myself from the internal prison. I create. I destroy. I survive.
Wash, rinse, repeat.
Title: Who’s the Monster Now
It has always astounded me that the monsters from my childhood aren’t so scary anymore. It’s because the monsters were never monsters. They were just pathetic, neglectful, predatory adults who took advantage of a child. A child who trusted them. A child who learned to keep secrets for the adults around her, a child who learned that physical attention got her farther than begging ever did (even though it hurt worse and left deeper wounds), a child who learned that nothing she did would ever be enough for anybody.
Title: Leave Me Alone
I sketched this on a particularly difficult antisocial day. Those are always hard for me since I thrive with communication. When it hurts to talk to people, I try to find something that brings me joy. I’ve been decorating my apartment in Midcentury Modern Atomic Age stuff since I moved in last fall. Retro starbursts are a particular fascination.
It sometimes baffles me how I can sit down to sketch angry enough to cause bodily harm and what appears on the page several hours later is something totally different than what I imagined.
Creating art with emotions is like that for me. I don’t try to direct it. I give the emotions permission to do what they want, and something unrelated comes out, but when I look for long enough, the connections are there. The message makes perfect sense to me after I give it some time to process.
Until next time,
Cathy Marie Bown
Cathy Marie Bown 