“Ooh, I found some of your artwork in the loft. Did you still want it?” My mum’s beautiful, melodic voice sang through the phone during our regular chat.
“Heck yes! Can I pick it up tomorrow?” I replied. I didn’t know what had happened to all of my old artwork, so this excited me.
Lately, I’ve been getting back into drawing and painting. It’s been so long since I’ve allowed myself to be creative.
Before my diagnosis seven years ago, I wanted to leave university and become a famous illustrator. I’d worked super hard for three years on a bachelor’s degree in arts, plus another year on a foundation degree, only to wake up on the last day with a numb left side.
It was my first MS attack.
I thought the artistic part of me was gone forever. I suddenly didn’t feel inspired or creative, and I didn’t trust my body enough to pursue art as I had planned.
Even when the feeling in my left side came back, and my right hand — my drawing hand — stopped having random moments of being weak and numb, I didn’t trust my body not to do it again.
I decided I could no longer be an illustrator. What if my hand stopped working again and I had a client’s order to fulfill? No, there was no way I could upset anyone. I needed to find something else.
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