Of my varying neurological differences, this painting represents my OCD. My intrusive thoughts are parasitic and consuming, and I have to work tirelessly to try to separate those thoughts from who I am and what I actually feel. They ooze and blend together. However, I don’t see my OCD thoughts as inherently an enemy; in fact, I think of them as a type of guardian trying to protect me, but they don’t know how to, or the OCD is unable to protect me in a balanced or healthy way. That is why I portray OCD as a harpy, a mythological bird-woman. She’s beautiful, but also monstrous and dangerous. She’s a predatory creature in a guise specifically designed to attract or convince.
I created this as a stream-of-consciousness piece, so it comes from resonant emoting, not perfectionism or overthinking. This harpy consumes the figure like a living shadow. The harpy doesn’t realize what they’re doing. By never leaving the figure’s side, the harpy consumes the person’s energy. The person is compelled to trust, and maybe even love, this harpy, but under its weight, the person knows they are food, just as I feel OCD consumes my mind.
Fear is in the figure’s eyes, just as care is in the harpy’s. The figure’s face is held in a tender embrace, but it’s also disappearing, as you don’t know where the harpy and figure begin and end.
By anthropomorphizing my disability, I seek to understand it, find empathy for it, so that I can find more balance with it. When I give OCD a form, it becomes more tangible, and less monstrous. Through this stream-of-consciousness exorcism, I am able to step back from my OCD to find calm recognition within this relationship with my own brain.
Acrylic paint, Ink, Bristol Board, 2021