paperbump

About paperbump: My name is Paige Korynta and I have lived in Anchorage, Alaska my entire life. Art has always been a passion of mine, but until recently it has not truly become my lifeline. These past two years have been filled with a lot of hopelessness. I have attempted suicide five times. I have been to five mental health facilities. I have malnourished myself to the point of near death. I have put myself through misery. I am not saying all of this here to gain attention or pity- I am simply opening my reality to others. I am suicidal. I am suicidal and have been for the past two years. I am mentally ill- I have obsessive compulsive disorder, anxiety, major depressive disorder (all the good stuff.) I now have a scar on my arm that will be there until my time is up. My mental illnesses have taught me how beautiful we are, how beautiful this life truly is. My mental “illnesses” have opened my eyes. In my art- I simply allow myself and my pen to become somewhat of the same entity. I draw what I feel. I want to create connection. I want to enable an honesty and rawness that our society shames. I want to make someone feel as though they are not alone, that they are enough, that their entire being is overflowing with a beauty they may not be able to see. We are all only specks. We did not choose to live. But we can choose to continue living. It does not have to be controlled, it is impossible for anything as strange as existence to ever display any signs of accepting control. Life is just breathing. Life does not have to be perfect grades and perfect weight and perfect smile and perfect house. Society states life should be all of that, but society is rarely competent. Life is just breathing. Hatred rids our bodies of all that creates meaning, creates love. We have the choice to allow control and the constant pursuit of perfection to inhabit our speck, or we can choose nurturing and understanding. Life gains meaning when we begin to let go of control and embrace the truth of our existence. We have the choice to live, and because we have this choice- we might as well choose to regain the warmth in our cheeks, the butterflies in our stomach, and the comfort behind our smiles. Regain meaning. Regain beauty. Regain our body. Our bodies are not here for other people to look at and deem attractive, to poke and prod; they are here to embody our consciousness. They are here to allow us to find whatever our meaning is. Yes, our life, our existence, is confusing, is a small unimportant speck, but it is ours. It is choice. It is breath. It is not control. It is breathing. Loving. Understanding. Letting go. Let go. There is no need to choose control. Nurturing is gentle. Be gentle. Picture the small speck of your life and hold it in your hand. Keep this speck safe. Nurture it, care for it, treat it kindly. Yes, it doesn’t make sense. Yes, it is small- but it is yours. Live this speck how you feel truly best fits you. This speck is not society’s, is not your parents’, your grandparents’, is not even God’s... It is yours. Find your true needs. Understand that you are just an organism living an existence that is a small grain of sand on a beach constantly being altered by waves. You did not choose to be alive, but you can choose whether or not to stay alive. Choose to live. Life is just breathing, it doesn’t have to be grades and comparison and money. Life can be whatever you feel is right. You don’t need to meet society’s criteria of what a life should consist of, you don’t even need to meet your previous criteria of what a life should consist of. All that is required for a life to be a life is breathing. Let go of control and just breathe. You have yourself. You have your breath. You have a brain and a body that needs to be nurtured. You are love. The mental illness is not a separate entity in your head. It is not this evil gremlin sitting in your brain yelling at you. If it helps to think of it that way, fine, go ahead. But I think it’s important to realize that the mental illness, the crash dieting, the drugs, whatever your vice is, it is you, it is me. The depression, anxiety, whatever- is you. But the happiness and hopefulness is also you. Every tiny second you have experienced so far has contributed to the creation of all aspects of you. Be proud of this. Realize that you are an eating disorder, a depression, an anxiety- but you are also a hopeful, a happy, a determined. You are the strength in the mountains, the delicate petals of the forget-me-not, the rolling hills and the winding streams. You are a masterpiece. A few months ago, I was sitting on my carpet, staring at my twinkly lights and Ghandi quotes. I now hated those quotes. “ You must be the change you wish to see in the world,” okay whatever Ghandi. I had given up. I felt an emptiness in my chest that no amount of purging, of restricting, of hatred, could fix. I didn’t even have the energy to cry. I know how this feels, I know how that pure hopelessness feels. I understand- It’s constant. It’s the worst pain. The numbness hurts. But it’s okay. You will be okay, I promise you. I promise. Keep breathing. I know you might not want to. Understand that you don’t have to talk, to walk, to move at all. You just have to breathe. Breath may be all your life is right now, and that is enough. I made it through, breath by breath, and I want my art to be there for those who are doing the same. I hope to display this anguish and peace in my art, I hope to create a connection among people that have ever fallen victim to their own mind, the toxicity of diet culture, peer pressure, the patriarchy, discrimination. I hope to create a connection. After all, life is connection.

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