“Out of My Mind” is not just a painting—it’s a deeply personal reflection of my journey through trauma, resilience, and healing. It was born from a place of profound pain, yet it carries within it the strength and light I fought to reclaim.

 

At the heart of this painting is a woman—that woman is me—her face tilted toward the sky, seeking hope and light. She is surrounded by vibrant sunflowers and delicate pink roses, each holding its own story of strength and survival.

 

The sunflowers, with their radiant golden faces, symbolize positivity, strength, and growth. They remind me of the sunflower fields I passed during long walks in the weeks following my first childbirth. Those walks were my only moments of calm during a time of exhaustion and despair. The sunflowers, standing tall despite the storms around them, became a quiet but powerful reminder that light and life persist, even in the darkest of times.

 

The pink roses, entwined in the hair and around the eyes, are a symbol of fragile but determined healing. They represent the journey of emerging from postpartum depression and trauma. Covering the eyes with roses is not to hide from the world but to transform how I see it—through a lens of hope, beauty, and self-discovery.

 

This painting is rooted in my experience of postpartum trauma, a journey that began with the birth of my first child during the height of the COVID pandemic. My labor lasted three excruciating days, and I was completely alone in the hospital due to restrictions.

My husband, my greatest support, was kept away—allowed only to pass a bag of supplies through sliding glass doors. The question was: how dare he left me alone, in a foreign country, where everything is different from me.

 

I remember the unbearable silence of those nights, the sound of machines beeping in the distance, and the ache of crying alone. Nurses came and went, but I felt invisible, unheard, and abandoned in my most vulnerable moment. When my baby was born, he cried endlessly, and I begged for help. No one listened. No one noticed that he wasn’t latching properly or feeding as he should. Days later, I was discharged, only for my midwife during the home visit to discover what the hospital staff missed—my baby had a tongue-tie, preventing him from feeding and causing him endless distress. It was a quick snip in his tongue to settle that. I always wondered what I did wrong that I couldn't help my baby at all. Was it my lack of fluency in German language to communicate?

 

The anger and frustration of those days stayed with me. How could something so simple be overlooked by so many?  The trauma of my first birth became a shadow, following me into every moment of motherhood.

 

Creating this painting became a way to honor those feelings, to give voice to the pain I carried, and to find strength in the act of expression. I started with an old piece of canvas—one I had abandoned, much like I felt abandoned during my postpartum period. Through bold, textured strokes of acrylic and layered oil pastel, I transformed it into something vibrant and alive. Each layer became a step toward reclaiming my voice, my narrative, and my light.

 

Healing, for me, has not been about forgetting. It has been about learning to live with the memories, to manage the triggers, and to find moments of light amidst the shadows. Out of My Mind is a testament to that journey. It is a celebration of survival and a reminder that even in our darkest moments, we have the power to transform pain into beauty and resilience.