In the spring of 2025, my depression
became unbearable and I was
hospitalized. The experience was
challenging in many respects, but
it did what was needed - it kept me
safe while I found my footing again.
One of the most healing things I
discovered during this time period
was the book, Man’s Search for
Meaning, by Victor Frankl. Written by
a psychiatrist who spent years as a
prisoner in Auschwitz, the book
describes Frankl’s theory of
Logotherapy, which supports the
patient in a search for meaning-
making, in turn giving them a
reason to endure suffering.
While the book was healing, other
aspects of the stay unfortunately
caused me more pain. One aspect
was the difficulty staff had with my
gender identify - which was a
particularly vulnerable point as the
government’s dehumanization of
trans people had played a part in my
need for admission.
The multiple pregnancy tests - despite
my documented hysterectomy - along
with the insistence of some providers
on using “she” (on in one case,
“vague/them”) pronouns in charting,
added to the feeling I was already
struggling with - that of being in a
body that was somehow an offense
to the people around me, an aberration
to fellow humans.
I dealt with this by making art. Sewing
needles (as well as pens and pencils)
being strictly forbidden on the unit, I
used markers my husband bought at
the convenience store on his way to
visit. I drew everything around me -
realizing as I did this, and read my
book, that part of my meaning on
this earth is making art - it’s what
I need to do, for my own wellbeing.
After discharge, I used these sketches
along with my printed medical record
to create a collage. Although this
kind of illustration is not a great
strength of mine, the process was
a way to put in place the mixed
experiences of the time.
Details from the final work