Creativity as Survival: My Path to Healing

In December 2022, I started my Instagram page. At that time, I didn’t yet have the freedom to share my stories, so I brought my creations online instead. My work became my voice, my way of showing a part of myself without words.

After my second burnout in October 2021, I started crocheting in the spring of 2022. It all began after a visit to my mother, who was in the middle of a crochet project. Something inside me was triggered—a memory, a longing to keep my hands busy. I decided to give it a try.

As a child, handcrafts were always present in my environment. In primary school, we were required to crochet and knit, and my grandmother was always holding a crochet hook in her hand. My mother also often knitted homemade sweaters and had recently joined a knitting club. So, in a way, it was in my genes, but the idea of joining a club myself still felt too overwhelming. What I needed most was peace and the freedom to go at my own pace.

During my first burnout in 2014, I experienced severe blackouts, something I never fully recovered from. My second burnout caused a major relapse. Even the simplest tasks, like counting stitches, became a challenge. Sometimes, counting from one to ten was already too much, forcing me to start over repeatedly. Every stitch became a mark on paper—a necessity to keep myself from getting lost in the chaos of my own mind.

Still, I persisted. My burnout kept me confined to my home, unemployed and trapped in a toxic relationship with 🥥. Engaging in creative work gave me a way to observe my situation from a distance. It forced me to be still, to observe, and to slowly realize how deep I had sunk. I quite literally kept myself busy in silence, watching and waiting.

However, creativity didn’t just bring me insights—it also connected me with other people. I had the opportunity to learn pottery, at my own pace. Not only the clay but also my connection with Caroline brought me so much peace and fulfillment. It was a safe way to step outside again, to meet kind souls, and to carefully start sharing my story. I dared to ask: Is this normal?

People admired my creations, and slowly, I began to realize that I was good at something. That I had value. Everywhere I went, I carried a creative piece with me. There was always someone asking, “What are you making?” That simple question gave me a sense of existence. It helped me discover myself in a new way—a part of me I hadn’t known before, a part of who I was.

These small steps were the first on my path to insight and healing. Creativity became a gateway to escaping my toxic situation. And I continue to create because it brings me so much fulfillment. Every piece carries a part of me. The most beautiful thing I can do is to bring joy to someone with a small, handmade piece of myself.