The Images of Depression By Ellie Satre

The pencil sketch depicts a bloodied hand holding a mirror shard reflecting the skull of the beholder.

Image Description: The pencil sketch depicts a bloodied hand holding a mirror shard reflecting the skull of the beholder. In my mind, this is what depression looks like. It is something that on the outside you only look hurt – maybe a little bloodied. However, when you look upon yourself, you feel nothing, a void that feels so close to death. My sketch depicts the morbidness and the pain that clinical depression can cause in a person and that it can be anyone.

Just see me

Just See Me
By Ellie Satre

Sometimes I wish I could just die.


It seems so easy…

…the flick of a switch…
…the push of a button…


If only it were as easy as closing your eyes

wishing it to be.

I don’t really understand it—
practically never, if I’m being truthful.


The voices.
So many voices,
myself but not at all.


The weight,
a monster

pulling

down

my spirit.

Not a comforting weight
like a dog on your lap,


but a deadly weight


that drags,

slowing you down,

whispering

you’re not good enough,

you’d be better off dead.

SHUT UP!

That’s what I tell it,
but it doesn’t listen.


“You’re fine. Just sleep it off.”


That’s what others say,
but they don’t understand.


“I’ve been sad before. What’s the difference?”


I try to explain:
I can’t catch my breath,


all these worries

An image of a concrete poem (also known as a shape poem) designed in the silhouette of a bowl.

(Image description: The outline of the vessel is formed by the phrase “Filling my body to the brim” curving along the bottom and sides. The “steam” rising from the top and the entire center of the cup are filled with the word “Worries” repeated many times in various fonts, sizes, and orientations, creating a cluttered and overwhelming visual effect.)

“If this is how you feel
I don’t know how to help you.
Just suck it up, ig.”


Little do you know
you make the tears heavier
and the weight more painful.


I can’t stop it,
but you keep making it worse.


If I don’t know how to explain it,
just be there for me.
Don’t belittle me.
Don’t think of me as less.


“Oh pobrecito.”


I don’t need your pity.
I have monsters, just like you—
they just speak louder
and weigh more.


My feelings are real.
You might not see it on the outside.
I might hide it with a mask,

but it’s cracking
more and more every day.


It’s not always bad,
but it’s still real.


Just see me for who I am.
I beg of you.

About the Author

Chinese 18 year old girl with short black hair.

Image Description: A young woman with short, dark hair and a slight smile poses outdoors. She is wearing a light blue ribbed tank top with thin black straps, a black choker necklace with a silver snake pendant, and a smartwatch. The background shows a shallow, rippling body of water with a sandy bottom.

Artist Bio: My name is Ellie Satre. I’m currently an 18 year old freshman at Indiana University Indianapolis. I’m currently studying Biology and Forensic Science so that I may go to Med School to become a forensic pathologist. While I don’t have a physical disability, I have struggled with anxiety and depression for years. I have struggled with suicidal ideologies and I used to put up with those that wouldn’t help, listen, or understand. Now, I choose to surround myself with those that are willing to listen and those who are willing to understand and help. I believe that everyone deserves respect and for their voices to be heard. Mental disabilities can be greatly overlooked and put off as something that doesn’t matter as much because it’s “all in the head.” The only thing that does it make the voices louder. Everyone deserves a voice. Everyone deserves care. With my whole heart, I believe this. 

Second Nature By Xin Dauterman

A watercolor painting of a bouquet of flowers next to two small mallard ducks.

Image Description: A watercolor painting on a textured, off-white background featuring a central bouquet of flowers and two small ducks in the lower right corner.

The bouquet is composed of stylized, pointed petals in earthy tones of deep red, muted orange, and soft purple, interspersed with green leaves and tall, thin blades of grass. The stems are gathered and tied at the bottom with a simple dark binding. Light splatters of paint surround the floral arrangement, giving it a whimsical feel.

To the right, two mallard-style ducks stand side-by-side, facing away from the viewer but looking back toward the flowers. One duck has brown plumage while the other is a bluish-grey, both featuring distinctive green heads. The overall style is minimalist and gentle.

Author Statement

How does it connect to the question:  What would help you feel supported or empowered with your disability(s)? 

As a person with hearing loss and ADHD, I have faced many struggles like academic struggles, social struggles, and confidence issues growing up. Sure, hearing loss starts off as a physical issue but can affect other aspects of life. The emotional impact hearing loss has on someone isn’t always seen. Throughout my life, hearing loss has caused a sense of isolation or feeling of disconnect from the world around me. 

Growing up, I assumed every child struggled trying to follow conversations, missing words or phrases or misinterpreting speech, and felt lost when a group of people were talking. I was clueless in conversation, always having to rely on my parents or my sister to narrate conversations I couldn’t follow. I learned that this was my sense of normal, shaped by hearing loss. 

A image of the backs of 2 people with their arms around each other's shoulders.

All of these causes barriers of communication and led me feeling anxious as a child. Growing up I’ve learned to feel different and behind from my peers and because of that, left me drained and exhausted going to school everyday. I remember as a kid looking forward to coming home to my big sister who was always there ready with open arms to give me a big hug and love me wholly. That’s when I have felt most supported or empowered.

The reason why I picked the painting was actually because my sister Leah and I painted this together recently. I feel like it represents our story and how sometimes it may look messy and scattered but in the bigger picture it’s our beautiful story that we get to share. And the struggles we have experienced and overcome can turn into something messy and beautiful. 

Leah is the person that gives me wisdom because she has taught me how to connect and empathize with people, to not only advocate for ourselves but to embrace our imperfections. I feel most supported having a role model I can always look up to, feeling like I am always loved unconditionally,  being able to have such a great relationship with my family and to use them as tools to overcome the challenging stuff. The challenges are what makes the story become beautiful. 

My sister has given me a sense of belonging and empowerment with my disability because she shows compassion, patience and understanding. Having people who are willing to slow down, repeat themselves and include me without making me feel like a burden makes a real difference. 

The two ducks in my painting represent the companionship and the lack of isolation I’ve felt going through life with my sister. They reflect always having each other’s backs and it reminds me that both communication and life are ongoing journeys. 

About the Author

This is a headshot of Xin Dauterman with her sister. Xin is the one in the left who is wearing glasses and a grey shirt. She has short, dark brown hair. And Leah is the one in the right, who has long, blonde hair with a striped shirt.

Image Description: This is a headshot of Xin Dauterman with her sister. Xin is the one in the left who is wearing glasses and a grey shirt. She has short, dark brown hair. And Leah is the one in the right, who has long, blonde hair with a striped shirt. 

Artist Bio

Xin Dauterman (she/her) is a biology student adopted from Jiangxi, China at the age of 2 and born with unilateral microtia and atresia; she wears a bone-anchored hearing aid every day. She draws on her lived experience of disability and ADHD to explore connection, accessibility, and compassion. She is currently learning American Sign Language (ASL) and minoring in it as a way to connect with her experiences with hearing loss. This watercolor piece was created by Xin and her sister, Leah Dauterman, an anesthesiology resident in the IU program. The painting is in honor of Leah and reflects the closeness of our relationship.

Wings

By artst: Tara

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This piece was sent as simple text that reads: “you took me in with broken wings, nursed me over time, helped me move past many things, and taught me how to fly. When things began to fall apart, and darkness turned to stone, your kind embrace and warming heart, began to feel like home. You mended every shattered dream, with patience, gentle grace, and in your light, my spirit gleamed, I found my peace in this safe space. Now as I soar on newfound wings, and face the skies so wide, your wisdom guides me through the nigh t, and lifts me up with pride.”

This piece was sent as simple text that reads: “you took me in with broken wings, nursed me over time, helped me move past many things, and taught me how to fly. When things began to fall apart, and darkness turned to stone, your kind embrace and warming heart, began to feel like home. You mended every shattered dream, with patience, gentle grace, and in your light, my spirit gleamed, I found my peace in this safe space. Now as I soar on newfound wings, and face the skies so wide, your wisdom guides me through the nigh t, and lifts me up with pride.”

Artist: Tara (She/Her)
Interview:
This project has been exciting for a number of reasons but especially because we had the opportunity to talk to each of the artists about their piece. Here is just some of what Tara (She/Her) shared with us on September 6th, 2024.

Tara (She/Her) is a lover of all things purple and DND (Dungeons and Dragons). She is a neurodivergent young adult living in a housing program for LGBTQ+ youth.

Describing their Art:
Tara wanted to capture some of the thoughts that have been going through her head since she moved into the housing program she is in.
“Everything that I thought I was never going to have I’ve been able to work towards and get.”
For Tara, safe, stable, and nurturing environments have people who are just there to help guide you through the good and the challenging bits life has to offer.
Those people ask what you need instead of assuming.
“A lot of the time people just put things in place, but they don’t ask anybody who it would actually effect.”
To those who are having a difficult time…
“When things seem down there are places and people that can help get you to where you can thrive.”
To those who work with young people like Tara…
“Thank you.”

Untitled by Hope

By Olivia Hope

 

I move but I am slow. The pep I once had in my step is now a shuffle. I hesitate to continue this

endless path of hopelessness. Where am I going? How did I get here? Why? I ask myself these

questions but they are left unanswered. I cannot stop to consider what these answers could be or

what they mean for me. All I can do is move forward.

Some days, I find my feet feel lighter. I can pick up the pace and wear a smile on my face. Other

days, I am on the ground crawling inch by inch. I long for what once was. When I ran with

freedom and skipped with joy, uninhibited by the weight of my sorrow and trauma. When did

this load become so heavy? Who is to blame? Why? I ask myself these questions but still they

are left to their own. All I can do is move forward.

As the mile markers go by, I pick up more weight and drop some off. The burdens fluctuate but

the pace remains the same. Even when my shoulders and hands are free, my body remains heavy.

My mind is chaotic white noise and I feel I am over capacity, incapable of finding myself. Who

am I outside of my obligations, family, and school? Where do I end and they begin? Why do I

feel I am never enough? This question stops me in my tracks.

I sound like the voices in my life who kept me small, sorrowful, and stiff. I do not like that. I

look at the road behind me, all the miles I have walked, crawled, ran. I remember each step and

how at each obstacle, each weight added, and each burden removed, I kept moving. I turn around

and stare at the road ahead of me, breathing in this moment of stillness. I want to shame myself

for standing still, but the sounds of the birds and the warmth of the breeze distracts me from

those thoughts. I should take breaks like this more often.

I take one final breath and I continue my pace once again. This time, I am walking taller and I

see a light in the distance that I did not see before. My body is still heavy and my mind is still

static, but the light provides me with strength. I see how much I have overcome and how much I

will accomplish in my future. I move forward feeling hopeful and more than enough

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Olivia “Liv” Hope

Olivia “Liv” Hope is a senior at Purdue University Fort Wayne majoring in Psychology, minoring in Philosophy and Religious Studies with a certificate in LGBT+ Studies. Olivia has received student awards for his involvement on campus and through his community advocacy in Fort Wayne, has been invited to sit on local advisory groups and be a guest speaker on panels. He is a single parent to a 3-year old child at home and enjoys being out in nature. Because of his lived experiences in the mental healthcare system and passions for advocacy, his career plans are to obtain his PhD in neuropsychology to advance alternative nonmedical treatments for psychiatric patients.

Image description: A selfie taken by Liv in his bedroom. He has black hair with a green streak and a black nose piercing. He is smiling while wearing a black shirt with a green crystal necklace.

Image description: A selfie taken by Liv in his bedroom. He has black hair with a green streak and a black nose piercing. He is smiling while wearing a black shirt with a green crystal necklace.