Art and Depression

                 I have shared a lot about how writing has carried me through my depression. Writing is my go-to coping strategy when I am struggling. It provides an outlet for all that gets trapped in my head. As much as writing helps me sometimes it is not enough. Other times I feel I need something different. It is not that writing is not working. It is more that I just need other outlets at times. I have discovered art as a secondary outlet when I am struggling. Usually when I lean into art, I find that painting soothes me. I enjoy paint pouring and painting on canvas with acrylic paint. 

I am not the most artistic person, but I enjoy the act of getting paint on the canvas.  When I am working with paint I feel a sense of calm. Paint pouring is especially soothing because I can watch the paint flow on the canvas. I like to mix different colors in my paint pours. There is something in the swirling colors as I move the canvas around that just feels healing. I also like the feel of the paint on my hands. I don’t know what it is about the feel of paint on my hands that is so soothing. It just relaxes me. 

I have mentioned before that I am being  treated with esketamine. During this treatment I experience a dissociation during which I “see” colors. Most often it is shades of purple emerging from a black background. I believe that the purple is an indication of healing. It is emerging from the darkness of my depression. I have created a few paint pours using shades of purple to represent what I experience during treatment. When I do this, it allows me to share my experience with others. I think combining my experience with depression and treatment with art is positive practice. It allows me to make my depression more concrete. 

Sometimes I see other colors emerge during treatment. I painted a mandala to represent these colors. Just painting what is in my head soothes me. One thing I like to do is combine my writing with painting. I have written poems to go with several of my paintings. This links two of my coping strategies, writing and art. Sometimes I put a poem on the painting. Other times I scan a painting and then print a poem on the back. When I combine my art and writing in this way, I can share the creations with others. I like to share my art and writing with people who are important on my journey.

Another way I like to incorporate art is by pouring paint on glass vases. Doing this creates beautiful pieces. Watching the paint drip down the vase is soothing. It is a feeling I need when I am struggling with my depression. It also helps when I am anxious. Pouring the paint and watching it flow also calms my anxiety. I am not sure I can explain how it happens. I just know it works. 

I found a quote by Winston Churchill, who battled depression, that I think captures how I feel. “Painting is a pastime, a therapy, and a life-saver for me.” Painting is healing for me just as writing is healing for me. I know that I can turn to writing and painting when I am struggling. I encourage others to try these activities. You don’t have to have the talent of the great artists. I surely don’t, but I enjoy creating art anyway. Find an artform that you enjoy. A trip to a craft store can provide a vast array of possibilities. If you are struggling with depression or anxiety, art might just provide a bit of relief.

 

 

 

Describing Depression

"What is depression like? It's like drowning even though you know how to swim." - often attributed to Elizabeth Wurtzel

 

                  I have often been asked to describe depression. I write a lot about depression. This blog is just one place where I write about it. Poetry is the form I am most comfortable writing about depression. I also like to read how other people describe it. While I find that there is a commonality in how we describe depression, there is also a uniqueness to each of our descriptions. 

                  The image I use most often to describe depression is darkness. For me it is a heavy, blanketing darkness. It spreads over me erasing the light around me. This is how I experience depression. When I share my image, I usually hear from others that they can relate. That is reassuring in the sense that it means depression is real. I am not alone. Depression affects so many of us. 

                  Recently, I used the metaphors of a winding road and an uninvited guest to describe depression. These metaphors aptly describe depression for me. Whether it is darkness, a winding road, or an uninvited guest, these images share the idea that depression is not easy. I think being able to create metaphors or images to describe depression indicates that I have an understanding of what I live with. I may not fully understand depression, but by writing about it I am processing it. I am working with depression as I express how it feels.

                  Sometimes I search online for how others describe depression. The quote above is one that I connected with. Depression is like drowning. It seems like a similar feeling to being blanketed by darkness. Drowning even when you know how to swim indicates that you need more than the knowledge of swimming to survive the water. 

How does this relate to depression?  Many of us who live with depression know the coping skills to fight depression. We have used those skills. We know that we are not our depression. But there are times when that knowledge is not enough. Depression can be stronger than that knowledge just as a strong current can make swimming difficult. When depression is heavy, when it is bearing down on us, it can be difficult to cope with it. I think I have a solid understanding of how depression affects me, but there are still times when I need a “lifeguard” to help me navigate it. I can know what I need to do and at the same time I can be paralyzed by depression.  

However we describe depression, it is painful. Depression makes life difficult. Depression is an illness. We may each describe depression in our own way, but however we describe depression, it can be debilitating. Putting our depression into words gives us a power over it. Describing it allows us to look at it from the outside. It enables us to share with others what we are experiencing. I believe that the more we discuss it, the more likely we are to be able to process depression. Of course, there are going to be times when depression has the upper hand. Times when we need a lifeguard to help us through the depression. I will continue to write about my depression. I encourage others to describe depression in whatever way works for them. Our descriptions help us and may just help others. 

Blogging for a Year

                 I missed it, but last week marked a year since I started this depression blog. My first post was June 16, 2023. I thought today I would glance back on the previous year and look forward to the coming year.  

                  This year has been nothing like I expected. When I started the blog, I was just coming out of a difficult period with my depression. In the months prior to starting my blog I had been through both esketamine and TMS treatment. They worked for me, and I was feeling better. In early June I transferred out of a job that was not good for my mental health. My amazing mental health care team helped me secure that transfer. It wasn’t easy but being away from that job had things looking up. I started interviewing for new positions. After a couple weeks I landed a position as a special education coordinator at a high school. I was excited about work for the first time in a long while. 

                  My blog had started off well. I had a new job. My depression and anxiety seemed under control. I was ready for a good year. Two days after being hired for the new position, I found myself in the emergency room. This emergency visit started a year I could never have expected. Within a couple weeks I was hospitalized and underwent a liver biopsy.  A week later my primary care provider said the word that would change everything. Cancer. I was diagnosed with stage 4 metastatic breast cancer. Chemotherapy would start quickly. The people that surrounded me would change my life. From my aunt to my dancing nurse to my oncologist, I was supported and cared for. My mental health team and primary care provider remained by my side, lifting me up. Somehow, I managed to keep writing this blog. I missed a few posts, but for the most part I posted twice a week. This blog gave me purpose. It provided a distraction to my treatment and the illness that was trying to take my life. 

                  Writing emerged as my healing tool, the same way it has as I have battled depression and anxiety. Those two “buddies” made noise during this past year. They joined cancer in trying to take me down. I fought. Some days were bad. Other days were really bad. Still, I kept writing. Taking pen to paper saved me. It gave my thoughts somewhere to go. I filled a few journals in addition to the posts I was writing. This blog and my journal were lifelines for me. 

                  As for the blog, my audience has varied. Some posts garner a lot of readers. Others only manage to attract few. The two most read posts were “A Safe Place for Healing” and “A Funeral for My Hair”.  The post “Cancer Hasn’t Won” had a lot of readers, too. As did the posts on esketamine treatment and TMS (transcranial magnetic stimulation), which were a series written from my psychiatric nurse practitioner’s perspective with follow-ups from my perspective as a patient. 

I continue to share my thoughts on depression and living with mental illness. I haven’t had the consistent readership that I was hoping for, but I’m not giving up. If you are reading this, I ask that you share the blog with someone or go back and read some of my older posts that you might have missed. I truly believe that we need to openly discuss depression and other mental illnesses. We need to bring acceptance and understanding to these illnesses. I have lived most of my life with depression and anxiety. Unfortunately, a large portion of that time, support was minimal if it was there at all. Times are changing. Mental illness is more accepted and understood now. Unfortunately, we are not where we need to be. We need to bring more light into the discussion. It is my hope that this blog be a part of that light. I want to bring hope and understanding. If my experience can bring help to others than it has served a purpose. I will continue to post twice a week. Writing is a larger part of my life now that I am unable to work. I hope to build this blog and in doing so help others. It helps me to write, and I hope that others are helped by my words. When I started this blog a year ago, I didn’t know how much it would help me. This blog has been a lifeline for me. I hope you will continue to read it and share it with others. 

My Pen – Writing as a Healing Tool

                  Having lived with depression most of my life has required me to develop coping strategies and healing tools. I have a great mental health team, but I can’t lean on them 24/7. So, I need tools to rely on in those moments when I am struggling on my own. Some of these tools have become a part of my daily life. The most significant tool I have is writing. 

I write every day. I write more when I am struggling. I write in different forms. Poetry has always been my go-to writing form. It is the type of writing that I discovered first in my battle with depression. I started writing poems as a teenager. I filled notebooks with these poems, which expressed what I was going through. I still write poems decades later. The poems seem to just pour out of me especially when I am struggling. I don’t know. Maybe I think in poetry. Many of my poems are dark, which makes sense. Depression is dark. As I have found healing, I have been able to write poems that evoke that healing. I am proud of both types of poems. They express who I am and what I live with. 

My writing has taken other forms over the years. You are reading one of those forms. This blog keeps me going. It provides me with a space to write about depression, which is healing for me. I hope that my posts bring healing to others. I also hope that it brings an understanding of depression to those who do not experience it. It is through understanding that we can help each other. 

Before I share a poem, I would like to invite readers to learn about the healing power of writing. I will be giving a talk for NAMI Glendale next Thursday, June 20^th at 7:00 pm. It is on Zoom. The link to register for this free event is at the bottom of this post. It will be an interactive talk that provides attendees with the opportunity to try writing. 

Now, for the poem. This poem can be found in my book, A Light Amidst the Darkness: Illuminating Mental Illness and Suffering. The poem is titled, My Pen. It explores what is happening inside of me as I write. Rather than explain the poem, I’ll let you draw meaning from it. 

 

 

My Pen

 

When my mind is full of turmoil I turn to my pen,

Reach for my journal and begin to write.

Words take the form of lines.

The poison pours out of me.

My pen is an instrument of healing.

The ink gives life to the words I cannot voice.

Line after line, page after page filled with my thoughts.

I feel each thought as it leaves my mind to make its mark upon the page.

The page soaks up my memories;

Becomes stained by my pain.

Dark thought after dark thought is released

And allowed to breathe on the page.

In these moments I feel lighter.

A sense of healing envelops me

As my turmoil escapes

My pen provides this passage to healing.

Each poem I write gives me the courage to continue.

My journals hold the reality of my pain.

Relieving me of my pain

And allowing me to live.

 

 

                  If you are interested in joining my talk, Writing as a Healing Tool, use the link to register.

 

https://namiglendale.org/event/writing-as-a-healing-tool/

 

A Safe Place for Healing

    As I have shared often, writing is healing for me.  Sometimes I write at night while I struggle with the insomnia brought on by depression.  At these times I usually write in my journal, filling the pages with thoughts and poems.  During the day I find that I need to write especially now that I am unable to work due my cancer diagnosis.  I can’t just sit at home and stare at the television or nap.  I know that it is good for my depression for me to get out of the house.  That leads me to the point of today’s post, having a comfort zone, a place that feels safe.  For me that place is the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf, more specifically, store number 138 on Mednick in East LA.  I love to sit here and write.  Writing is healing for me and sitting at this Coffee Bean adds to that healing.

I have been writing at this Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf for several years.  I used to show up at 5:30 am and write before I would go to work.  I would sit there and write poems.  I was always very productive on these mornings.  When I walked in the baristas would greet me.  Often, they would start my drink before I even ordered.  I’d chat with them a bit.  It was a comforting start to my day.  It was also my escape from the depression driven insomnia that plagued me.  I would have been there earlier if they had been open.

I think having a place to spend time writing has been healing for me.  Feeling comfortable here allows me to let the darkness in my mind escape through writing.  I can just write without being reminded of the loneliness I feel in my house.  I feel connected to people even though I sit by myself.  The important thing is the environment.  The smell of coffee wafts through the air.  I hear people talking, laughing.  I can pretend I am not alone.  This allows me to get lost in my writing and it somehow lifts my depression.

                  Most of all five of my books were written in this Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf. Now, I write my blog posts and work on my next book here with a caramel cold brew next to me. I feel comfortable here.  My writing flows.  The words have a freedom to fill the page of my journal or the document on my computer screen.

Struggling with depression makes being in public places difficult, but this place is a haven for me.  The baristas are always kind.  I chat with most of them. After I was diagnosed with cancer, I couldn’t come in to write and drink my coffee.  I was gone for a few months as I underwent chemotherapy.  I missed my writing spot.  I missed the baristas.  I lost the comfort of my favorite writing place, the spot that lets me block out the depression.  

                  Most of the time I was receiving chemotherapy I stayed at my aunt’s house in Santa Monica.  It was not possible to hang out at my Coffee Bean because of the distance and the fact that I had to protect myself from illness. On one of the rare days I was at home, my friend came to this Coffee Bean and ordered my drink.  She told the barista it was for me and that I was fighting cancer.  The barista knew she was talking about me and bought the drink for me.  That drink tasted so good.  It also made me feel good that I hadn’t been forgotten.  

It is strange to have a connection to coffee place, but because my depression keeps me from socializing a lot, this place is my social connection.  I believe we all need a place where we feel safe.  A place where our illnesses do not matter.  When I was able to return to sitting here daily, the baristas remembered me and my drink order.  I felt welcomed back.  I have resumed my daily writing practice.  My next book is well underway, a product of sitting here with my cold brew.  My blog posts get written while I am sitting here.  I am productive despite my illnesses as I sit at this Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf.

I would mention some of the baristas by name, but there are so many who have impacted me with their kindness over the years, I don’t want to miss anyone.  I have spent so much time here.  Sitting here is one of my strategies for coping with depression. I truly believe it helps me cope with my depression. Having a place that feels comfortable, a place where I feel connected allows me to stand up to my depression.  My depression can rest on the sidelines while I sit here sipping cold brew and writing.  

It seems strange that I am writing about a place in my depression blog. The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf has provided me with a space to cope with my depression and to continue healing from my cancer.  I believe sitting here writing is a part of my healing. I know that the time will come when the cancer gets worse, and I will not be able to sit here and write.  I will have to return to chemotherapy and keep myself out of public places.  Until then, I will sit here in my comfort zone and write.  I plan to finish my next book while I sit here.  I hope that the blog posts I write here attract more readers and help people.  Everyone needs a place where they feel comfortable and find healing. The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf is that place for me.  Thank you to everyone at store 138!

My intention in writing this wasn’t just to give a shout out to the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf.  I want to encourage people who are living with mental illness to find their safe space, a place where they feel comfortable. That place is going to be different for everyone.  You might even have more than one place.  For example, sometimes I need to walk on the beach. It is important to identify places where you feel comfortable because being trapped at home can make your mood worse.  I’ve shared my place. I encourage you to find your place.  

 

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The Healing Power of Writing

            Recently, I was scrolling social media. A quote on Sandra Marinella’s (author of The Story You Need to Tell) struck me.  I paused and took the quote in, reflected on it.  “Writing was there to listen when no one would seem to understand what you were going through.” The quote is from Frederick Espiritu.  I instantly related to the quote.  Writing has been there for me for as long as I can remember.  It has been a healing salve for me since I was in my early teens. 

            What is it about writing that is so healing?  I am not sure I can give an explanation that does justice to the healing power of writing in my life.  I started writing poetry when depression emerged in my life.  I wrote constantly, filling red spiral notebooks with the darkness that resided in my mind.  The poems expressed the depression that was unnamed at the time.  I wouldn’t understand until decades later, but my writing was serving as a sort of therapy for me.  It was allowing me to express the darkness depression caused me to feel.  In those early years I was not diagnosed and the effects of my mood on my life were ignored by people, such as teachers and school counselors who should have addressed it.  Lacking intervention, I turned to my writing.  My notebooks listened.  They took in every word.  

            I continued writing into adulthood.  I have never stopped writing.  It has been the most constant coping strategy in my life.  About ten years ago, after years and years of writing, I shared some of my poems with my psychologist, Dr. Klein.  He understood.  He recognized that the writing was serving as a quasi-therapy for me.  Writing allowed me to express so much of what was stuck in my head because of my depression.  Dr. Klein read my poems.  We talked about them.  My writing provided more insight into what I was going through than I could express in discussion.  We often used my poems to start discussions.  It made talking easier for me.  Dr. Klein encouraged me to keep writing.  That advice has carried me over the years.  

            My journals are always by my side.  They give me a sense of security and a place to express the torment of the depression and anxiety that so often rule my life.  I don’t know the science behind how writing works, although I am interested in learning about it.  I just know writing works for me.  I believe it can work for others.  I have given a few talks on the healing power of writing.  They have been successful.  When a person is given a conduit to healing there is a release.  The conduit for me is writing. I believe in its power, but there are other conduits.  Art, music, and exercise are examples.

            Writing allows me to let the thoughts and emotions that fill my head flow out of me.  These thoughts often become trapped in my head.  They drag me down.  At times when my depression is in control, the thoughts that fill my head need an escape route.  Writing provides that route for me.  In the early years my writing took the form of poetry.  I have evolved.  I still write poems, but I also journal.  I write this blog.  I have dabbled with fiction writing.  Poetry and journaling seem to be the most effective for me. The thoughts that I struggled to process when they are stuck in my head become concrete on the page once written.  I can read those words and better understand them.  I can share my written word with my mental health team.  This allows them to gain a different understanding of what I am going through.  With depression it is often hard to verbalize out loud what I am feeling or thinking.  When I write, those feelings and thoughts flow differently.  They take on life and make more sense. 

            I believe writing has been a gift in my life.  I honestly believe that I would not have made it to this point in my life without writing.  At the times when I can speak to someone on my mental health team, writing is there.  My journal takes in my pain.  It holds it when I am unable to carry the pain.

            When I was diagnosed with cancer last summer, I turned to writing.  It seemed like an obvious thing to do. Writing helped me through depression. I had to trust that it would help me through cancer.  Since my diagnosis, I have written more pages than I can count.  Journal entries, poems, and blog posts have been abundant.  They have carried me in my weakest moments.  I wrote as chemo drugs were dripping into my body.  I wrote as nausea roiled through me.  Fatigued, but unable to sleep, I wrote.  Just as with the depression, writing helped me cope with the cancer.  I have written some of my best poems hooked up to IVs.  Writing gave me the hope I need to fight cancer.  

            Writing is always there for me.  It is my most faithful companion.  It is an elixir that has always brought me healing.  By no means am I suggesting that writing is a cure for depression or cancer.  Medical treatment is necessary.  Writing helps, though.  It makes the road easier to travel.  It takes on the darkness of my mood and the pain and fear of cancer.  Writing gives depression and cancer a holding place.  This allows me to face them head on.  I don’t have experience with other illnesses, but my guess is that writing can ease the suffering of other illnesses.  I have found that writing understands.  It knows my pain and is willing to hold it for me.  Writing listens when no one else understands.  I can’t ask for anymore.  

A Little More Gratitude and a Cancer Poem

            Last week I shared all the people I am grateful for in my life.  Today I want to share a few things I am grateful for and then leave you with a poem I wrote this past weekend.

            First, I am grateful for TMS (transcranial magnetic stimulation).  There have been two posts on this blog about TMS.  It has made such a difference in my battle with depression.  I don’t know where I would be without TMS.  It is a treatment that works for me, and I know will be a part of my life.

            I am also grateful for chemotherapy.  How can I not be grateful for something that is keeping me alive?  It may seem a little strange to be thankful for something that makes me feel like crap each week, but it is doing its job.  It is killing my cancer.  As sick as I feel I am grateful that the medical knowledge is available to treat my cancer and that I have a chance to survive.

            Another thing I am grateful for is the ability to write and experience the healing power of writing.  For as long as I can remember, writing has been a part of my life.  I would be interested in knowing how many poems I have written in my life.  Writing is a healing tool.  I am grateful that I can express my thoughts and emotions in writing.  I am grateful that I have this blog to share those thoughts and emotions with all of you.  My books are another source of gratitude for me.  Each one has brought me healing and allowed me to share my story with others.  

            So, I have a lot to be grateful for. Expressing my gratitude has helped me remain positive as I battle depression and cancer.  Don’t be surprised if you see gratitude pop up on my blog again in the future.  

            I also wanted to share a poem with you.  This poem is about the cancer, more specifically fighting cancer.  At times I get down because as much as I try to fight, I often just do not have the energy or stamina.  My body is weak from the fight.  When I start to feel down about needing so much rest, my Aunt Holly reminds me that even when I am resting, I am fighting.  As I thought about it made a lot of sense.  My body is in a fight for its life.  It needs time to heal.  That is what happens when I am resting.  So, even when I am resting, I am fighting.  That is where this poem came from.

 

Cancer Chose Me

 

Cancer chose me.

I did not choose cancer.

Cancer is ravaging my body.

Leaving me to fight.

At times I am weak, but still I fight.

Battling cancer takes all my strength.

 

Cancer chose me.

Its poison attacking my organs.

I fight back with a different poison, 

A poison meant to kill as it heals.  

My body is a battleground between cancer and chemo.

 

Cancer chose me.

Some days I must rest.

I cannot actively fight every day. 

Learning that it is okay to rest has been difficult,

But it is something I must accept.

 

Cancer chose me.

I did not choose cancer,

But I chose to fight back.

Meet the cancer head on

And fight for my life.

 

 

            Check back on Thursday.  I will be reflecting on how depression affects my fight. Depression can affect battles with any illness.  I will share my perspective. 

Friends and Journal-Making

            A few weeks ago, my cousin, Sara, asked if I wanted to see some of my friends.  I haven’t been able to do much, partly because I don’t have the energy and partly to protect my immune system.  She offered her backyard as a safe space for me to gather with friends.  We decided to make it more than just a get-together.  I asked my friends to join me to decorate journals that we could donate.  Aunt Holly and I made 60 journals.  Making the journals was fun.  It was also relaxing.  We stitched the journals with pink ribbon.  I had about 40 more blank journals that I had purchased for a talk I was unable to do.  This gave us a good supply of journals to decorate.   

This past Saturday Sara hosted a brunch for me.  My friends came. It was great to see them.  Maria brought a card from some of my former students.  Their sweet words brought tears to my eyes.  My students are the part of teaching that I miss.  I’ve written to the students and let them know that my goal is to beat this cancer and be at their high school graduation.  

After a delicious meal of bagels, fruit, and salad, we got busy making journals.  As we decorated, we laughed and relaxed.  It was great to see my friends.  It was an enjoyable afternoon.  We had a lot of supplies: stickers, stencils, markers, and colored pencils.  Thank you, Nancy for adding to the supply stash. Everyone got busy.  We chatted as we worked.  There was laughter and smiles.  For a while I was just one of the girls.  For a short time I forgot that I was the woman with stage 4 cancer.  

Our goal – to decorate journals for people with cancer or mental illness.  Since I suffer from both illnesses, they are important to me, and I want to help others who are impacted by these illnesses.  We used stencils, stickers, and markers to write messages of hope on the journals.  We pasted my poem “A Whisper Above the Water” on the inside cover of the journals.  We decorated about one hundred journals.  These journals will be donated to four places, the cancer treatment center where I am receiving care and chemo, the cancer support community where I am receiving support, the TMS center where I have received TMS treatment, and an out-patient mental health facility where I have shared my story several times with patients and staff.  

Why journals?  Writing has always been healing for me.  It has been my coping strategy throughout my battle with depression and now writing is carrying me as I battle cancer.  I want to share writing with others.  Maybe writing in journals can help others in their battles with mental illness and/or cancer.  I stumbled upon writing as a teenager, and I am still writing in middle age.  Explaining what writing does for me is difficult.  It is a release.  The thoughts that depression and cancer cause to build up in my head find their way onto the pages of my journal.  Once the thoughts are on the paper, I have an easier time processing them.  

A few years ago, I read an incredible book, The Story You Need to Tell, by Sandra Marinella.  It helped me understand how writing heals.  I return to the pages of this book a lot as a reminder that writing heals.  Donating journals is my way of helping others.  I am hoping that by donating journals I can encourage others to try writing and maybe find some healing.  

Saturday was a wonderful day.  It took a lot out of me physically.  I am drained as I write this the next day.  I’ll deal with being drained.  Seeing my friends and doing something to help others was worth it. 

I am grateful that my friends and family helped me with this project.  I plan to keep making and donating journals.  It is a small thing, but it is something I can do.  

Thank you: Holly, Sara, Carol, Maria, Jessica, Bernie, Lisa, and Sylvia.  

Check back Thursday for a post about the idiocy of the health care system.