Chapter 1 – Therapy

Bette had started this painting therapy at the suggestion of her therapist. She met with her therapist, Rachael once a day and also sat through group twice a day. While this was intense and exhausting, Rachel thought that some creative release may help Bette find something she liked in herself. There is always a positive feeling when you create.

Bette had been at this place now for three weeks and while she had come out of her shell and could talk about her attempt to take her life she still had huge holes in her well being. She needed some positive energy to start to balance the vast amount of negativity that was flowing out of her.

Bette sits starring at the blank canvas.

"How do I start? I cant spoil the perfect image of the white canvas. What could I possibly add to this empty space that would mean anything? I really just dont have any pretty pictures in me."

"Well, (sign) I need to start somewhere. Think. Where do I want to go with this? How do I know what to do? I cant even figure out where I want to go? Think, this cant be that hard What do I want to reflect? .. How do I get this started?" 

"God, I am SO lost. . Damn . Just start already."

Bette picks up the biggest, fattest bush she could find and dabs it hard in the black paint. "When they told me I need some form a therapy during my stay here I thought this would be easy. Who am I kidding I dont even know what to paint. May..be.. I have an idea."

She sits there with the brush poised in her hand. I have to do this, I have to start somewhere. "JUST START YOU JERK."

Her death grip hold on the brush is causing little muscle spasms as she stands poised to start. She is grasping the brush so hard the paint is spattering on the floor.

"GO Just start GO… Move"

Bette starts slashing it across the canvas in broad dramatic stokes.

Standing back after 15 minutes, Bette looks at her results. Her arms are tired from the forcefulness of her strokes. "GOD that felt great!!"  Looks like ***** but it felt great."