The art of depression

The passing away of Robin Williams due to a depression, hits something deep inside of me. I too can be funny and like to be a clown sometimes. And I too have suffered from a depressions in my early twenties. Looking back today, I almost forgot what it was like. My depression resolved about not taking care of myself and unresolved childhood issues boiling up. I became very cynical and sarcastic. People around me offered love and support, but I could not accept it. This was my own demon to face. I had a continuous flow of the same logical thoughts inside my head, which boiled down to: I am not OK, but you have to be OK, but I am not OK, ect. These thoughts more and more and exhausted me completely on multiple levels. I was out of touch with my emotions and I basically became a robot. Finally, I sought help from a psychiatrist and I got some meds as well. But what truly saved me was that I started to take up painting. I am no artist, but for some reason I wanted to paint. I painted these horrible, cold pop-art paintings of which I posted some of them here. I remember finishing one painting, walking away to grab a beer and returning to look at the end result. I was shocked! I thought to myself: ‘I must be really unhappy to paint something like that’. For the first time in a long time I was able to feel empathy for myself. To see tht I was hurt. I started to communicate with my dark side throught these paintings and learned to embrace and accept it. I even hung up these paintings in my living room. Like an art gallery of the dark night of the soul! Looking back, this was my turning point and my slow way back from hell began. This path I had to walk alone, but through my paintings I was able to communicate with my emotions and maybe even with my soul. Later, when I felt better I became ashamed of these paintings. Some I threw away and others I hid for quite some years. Untill today. The sad news of Robins depression brought me back to them. They are flat, ugly, and cold, but for me they were my saviour in my saddest hour. Today I am blessed because I am strong and happy without despressions. I learned how to regularly communicate with my dark side. I learned to to take care of myself. I hope that this post may direct someone else to a nearby hobbyshop in order to make some gruesome paintings as well! In order to start a conversation with the dark side which lives in all of us. It is an ugly conversation which brought me sorrow and empathy but which also led me to self acceptance and made me whole again. Which made me human again.

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