My depression became worse around the same time, and I sought help on campus.

My symptoms were pretty severe, needing medication and therapy. I hobbled along, having increasing trouble at jobs and in relationships, until at 38 I finally asked for psychiatric residential treatment. There, I saw that my best option was to change the way I lived so I could better support my mental health needs. I moved into a small apartment, applied for disability benefits, got housing assistance, and committed to all my appointments and therapy. Over time, I began to draw and paint again, and with practice and support, I found ways to share my art with my community.

Now, I have lots of supportive relationships, a dog, and an actual art studio in my church! I learned that admitting the truth about my needs and asking for help was noble. I feel useful sharing my experience and hope with others having feelings of mental unwellness. It’s a normal human experience we can overcome together.

- Kimberly Free, Visual artist