Disclaimer: I'm a reader and — even if flirting with creativity in other ways of life — not a(n aspiring) writer.
I can fall in love with and already trust your two sample sentences. I can imagine myself enjoying your style immensely.
Maybe you feel that your writing style is deviating from the "norm". (Ha! I hope that already sounds terrible.) I want you to see that it can also be an amazing thing. A forte. A distinctive trait, that readers can learn to love and then crave more of.
You are allowed to write in the way it comes to you naturally. You can study, recognize, and embrace your own style. From then on, you could cultivate, refine, and train it, in directions, with aspects, that seem to fit it at ease. Perhaps even developing a style by which you will get recognized.
Regarding the specifics with these commas, what you could do, is reading larger chunks of your text, like paragraph by paragraph, or maybe even by a few paragraphs at a time, and keep an eye on the rhythm; manage your punctuation not to target a low number of commas (or whatever else), but to create, and to manage the ebb and flow of a rhythm — let it be playful, curious, or impactful in its ways. If that involves more commas than that in other people's writing, it is not merely okay, but it could even become a prominent vehicle in delivering your... art. This is your style. That's (among other things) what people love about your work. Another thing that can bring them back.
You may want to see an illustration of this; perhaps, proof:
I can offer you Jon McGregor. I have read two novels of his, the first being Reservoir 13.
In the first pages — perhaps throughout the first chapter? — I somehow felt a growing sense of being uncomfortable; something was going on. Then I recognized that it's how the author managed the sentences. It was something I have never seen, and would have not expected before. As far as I can tell, it had something to do with... ha, I'm not revealing any spoilers!
Anyhow: I persevered. Later, gradually I eased up, and proceeded to immensely enjoy reading the book. (Perhaps the writing style also got adjusted, allowing the specific perplexing pattern to fade out, to give room to something else?) In the end I found the experience reading the book very pleasurably impactful: I fell in love not only with the characters and their environment, but also with the specific way the events of their lives were delivered. Of course I wished the story went on longer; or rather, if there was some way for me to stay in that somewhat strange, hazy, uplifting world.
And through this adventure I got introduced to Jon McGregor's style.
Reading a second novel from him has confirmed: it's a thing that he does. He likes to play with language; to — absolutely boldly — invent his own dimensions of it. This is his work, his personal medium.
And now I am glad beyond expression that I got introduced to his work, because the second book I read from him — Even the Dogs (a difficult thing, this one; not for starters) — had granted me an incredible headway in my life: it enabled me to beat an eight years long debilitating addiction, or, to be more precise, to swap it out with a different, more constructive one. And his unique way of playing with language and heaping dimensions upon dimensions had the key role in delivering this impact.