Unexpected Art

by Jamie Lynn Cruz (they/she) September 15, 2023

“This is going to be useless.” This was a clear thought in my mind before starting group therapy. I’ve been in and out of treatment centers since I was 16 for my severe major depressive disorder. This past May, was my most recent “trip”. My experience in group therapy was always in an inpatient setting. The mental health technicians that lead these groups were severely misinformed, uneducated in mental health, and/or unequipped to emotionally guide large groups of people with ranging mental health issues and conditions. I’ve seen technicians googling terminology about trauma, while they were claiming to teach us about trauma. A technician asked my roommate, who experienced hallucinations, if they could see ghosts. The first hospital I went to, at 16 years old, had a riot take place the week just before I arrived. Needless to say, I was not hopeful, in the least, about this next attempt to keep me alive. But, I made a promise to my partner to try and be honest. And, that was not a promise I was going to even think about considering to break.

On my first day, I was stunned by the art room at the day hospital. It was nothing like I had ever seen before. Vibrant paintings of recreations by famous artists, vivid drawings ranging from still life to portrait, surreal digital art, collaborative pieces, and even a sculpture of a head of a Chinese dragon! All of these were done by the participants and lead by the resident art therapist.

I hadn’t thought much of art therapy. I liked to draw, I’ve dabbled in painting with acrylics and watercolors. It had been a long time since I picked up a brush. I didn’t ever think that I had I time to do hobbies, let alone sit and paint. But here I was being asked to just sit down and… paint. You’d think there would be more to this, a prompt or a deeper meaning. But the art therapist simply told me to find something I’d like to make. For my first piece I decided to recreate a Japanese zen garden that I found in a National Geographic magazine with acrylics on canvas.

Suddenly, it was like muscle memory, like, “Oh yeah, huh. I am good at this!” This thought process served as an important parallel for me. I thought that this entire endeavor was hopeless. I could never recover because I’ll never be good at mental health the way I thought I was before. But I am good at it. And it’s going to look different every time. This was my proof.

Over the course of four sessions in art therapy, I was able to create something I didn’t think I was capable of making. All the while, I was being encouraged by my new peers and forging relationships, I didn’t know I was capable of. It required a level of vulnerability that I was slowly becoming okay with.

After we finished that project, we started another one: representing two emotions or feelings that are connected for you. I chose anxiety and love.

For me, anxiety has always been there. It fuels the way I walk, the way I talk, essentially how I interface with anyone. I represented it with a 3D paper spiral and jagged triangle pieces, outlined with black oil pastel, to show how all consuming it felt when I am anxious.

In contrast, love is a burst for me. I want to contain my love, because, I think that it’s embarrassing to show or receive it and to feel grateful. Contrary to many Asian parent stories, I had heard many “I love you”s and “Mahal kitas”. But it would be mixed in with the dismissal of my poor mental health and urgency for me to be someone, who I had no interest in becoming, that muddled it for me.

I showed the inter-connectedness of these emotions for me, by incorporating elements of each piece into each other. The pinks and the oranges of love finding their way and interrupting the jagged thoughts of anxiety. The blues and reds of anxiety permeating the burst of love.

A peer made an important observation while I was presenting these pieces: I was so assured talking about my anxiety, however, when I talked about love, I was abashed, almost like I was hiding. This had never been brought to my attention before. It was second nature to trust my anxiety and distrust love.

There’s since been plenty of art and still so much to come. Art is this unexpected outlet, yet, it makes so much sense to me. Something that brought so much comfort has returned to me.

Being in a group therapy setting has shown me how I interact with other people. It has given me this unique opportunity to talk about my emotions and feelings in such a raw way with friends that before was like pulling teeth. In my first two weeks I joked that I think I’ve cried more in front of these, essentially strangers, than I have in front of friends that I’ve had since childhood.

I know my journey with mental health is far from over but I feel so secure knowing that I have an amazing care team, new friends, old friends, an amazing partner, and an “open to learning” family to be with me, while I go through this healing process.

Taking this break from my career is essential for me to move forward. Without it, there might have been no “forward” at all.