Finding Myself Again Through Art: Living With Bipolar Disorder, and Postpartum Depression
For a long time, I stopped recognizing myself. Not physically - though that changed too - but internally. The person I used to be slowly disappeared underneath survival mode, depression, motherhood, emotional exhaustion, and the constant battle of living with bipolar disorder. Somewhere along the way, I stopped creating. And for an artist, losing the ability to create feels like losing a language you once spoke fluently. Art used to be the only place where my emotions made sense. Before everything became so heavy, I painted and drew constantly. I sketched emotions I couldn't explain out loud. I poured confusion, anger, fear, and hope into canvases because it was easier than trying to organize the chaos in my head into words. Painting wasn't just a hobby to me - it was proof that I existed out of my pain. Then slowly, over the course of three years, I lost that part of myself. People who have never experienced severe depression or postpartum depression often think creativity dis...
