Fragments

My mental health resembles a shipwreck, with pieces of past wounds and memories scattered about. I continuously struggle to escape these shadows, but my strength is waning.

I feel like a vessel broken apart by forces that were, at times, beyond my control. I see a turbulent sea crowded with objects. It is all confusing, and I connect the objects with past wounds, memories, fears, and experiences that refuse to sink. I find myself continually returning to this wreckage, searching through what is left behind and trying to understand how I came to be here.

I have questioned myself about whether I will ever feel entirely separate from my past. My memories have become fragments of my identity, shaping the way I see myself and the world around me. Some pieces are sharp and painful; others have become so familiar that I no longer know whether they belong to the past or have become part of who I am.

I question whether healing means becoming someone new, or simply learning how to live among the fragments of who I once was. The wreckage cannot necessarily be erased. Perhaps it can only be acknowledged, rearranged, and given meaning; but I have not learnt to do this yet.

I question my perceptions, decisions, memories, and sense of worth. The more I attempt to understand myself, the more uncertain I become. There is a constant tension between wanting to move forward and being pulled backwards by thoughts that have become almost impossible to distinguish from reality.

I wear this prisoner uniform, because here and now, I am prisoner of the shipwreck, and the sea. The shipwreck therefore becomes more than a metaphor for suffering. It represents the uncertainty of existence itself: the feeling of being lost, the fear that there may be no clear destination, and the search for meaning within circumstances we cannot always control. It reflects an existential struggle between acceptance and resistance.

***

Fragments is ultimately a reflection on memory, identity, self-doubt, and the fragile process of trying to rebuild. It portrays an observer (of her inner wreckage).

The direct gaze is especially powerful because she doesn't look away. There is a feeling of being forced to witness what is happening internally, while simultaneously questioning what is real, what happened, and whether she has any control over it. She is not looking towards an imagined future or turning away from the wreckage. Instead, she confronts it. Yet this confrontation is accompanied by uncertainty.

The handwritten words scattered across the surface represent these thoughts; fragments of internal dialogue that surround the figure. They resemble memories or thoughts that cannot quite be organised into a coherent narrative.

The textured background is therefore important to the idea of the sea and wreckage. The surface is disrupted rather than smooth, reflecting the instability of the mind. The physical layering of the mixed media mirrors the psychological layering of memory: one thought covering another, something buried eventually resurfacing, and fragments accumulating over time.