I started this drawing on a day when I was having a depressive episode, and finished it on a day after it had fully passed.
It was really, really, really hard to draw that day, and drawing didn’t make me “feel better” in that moment or anything. But my therapist tells me that doing art in an effort to care for myself instead of sinking into destructive spirals is a courageous act I should feel proud of.
I hated the piece when I left it that day. But I cleaned it up after coming back to it with fresh eyes (and fresh brain chemistry). And I like to think that the two different moods I created this in gives it extra depth.
Originally published on Instagram.