Writing our way to health

By Mary-Elizabeth

Suffering from an illness, any illness is problematic at best. Physical or mental, long term or short term, it is a hard life change that many of us have had to face. It makes no difference whether it is you that is suffering with a disability or a loved one’s suffering we are watching, it is always hard to cope with. Most therapists these days will tell you that an illness in the family means that it is a family illness.
In 2001, my mental and physical health hit bottom. I became anxious and within a very short amount of time, I lost all hope. I felt completely defeated in everything that I undertook, so I isolated myself from daily life and the fun that was going on around me. I mechanically laughed at jokes on queue to be polite, and spoke only when spoken to. The emotions that were supposed to be present were absent. I was numb and began to hate my life and found it hard to wake up every morning. I spent the years of 2001, 2002, 2003 and 2004 crying from morning till a fell asleep, usually around dawn. A few hours later, I would be up again, facing the same rainy day as always, whether the sun was shinning or not!
I am not a doctor or therapist; I am an artist turned author. I understand what it is like to live with physical disabilities and the depression that comes with it. When I became really ill in 2001, I put aside my brushes and clays and curled into the preverbal “ball” that retreated from life and everyone in it. I no longer cared about what I could create; it was all about what I could not create!
On December 23rd, 2004, my wonderful husband reminded me of a manuscript that I had begun in 1994. He said that I should start to re-write the story, to keep my mind busy. I grasped at the idea, what did I have to lose? I was already miserable! I might as well try to get my mind off all of the problems that were mounting. I can tell you now, it was the best thing that I could have done for myself.
On December 24th, 2005, one year and one day after I had begun, I finished my first book! I was successful! Once I had begun to concentrate on something other than the problems I had no control of, I began to feel the ties that were binding me release their grip. My mental health began to heal and I began to laugh and love and enjoy life again.       The act of writing as an art form taught me that when we open up to our inner voice, when we start focusing on something other than what is keeping us down; we will be able to begin the healing process. Whether it is prayer, dance, music, art or writing, I would like to encourage everyone who reads this to start thinking of yourselves as an artist, to begin thinking about what you would like to do and then to do it. Remember, our healing will only take place once we begin to want it and help it to take place. Begin small, write a poem, sing a song or sketch out a little picture. Once you do, you will feel empowered and the healing can begin!

Be sure to read my book, Am I Dead Yet? A Disabled Artist’s Journal. Please ask your doctor or therapist about Art Therapy.