Welcome to the last poetry-focused post of 2024! Today’s topic features Stacy Hinojos talking about poetry as healing and connection.
I have a guest come and post on my blog each month talking about poetry so be sure to check out all the Exploring Poetry posts in the series and follow for more!
Stacy Hinojos, a Central Wisconsin writer, has been writing poetry, prose, and short stories for years. She recently achieved her top Bucket List goal by publishing her first book of poems, “These Words” in March 2024. “I hope readers will enjoy a few of my poems, and perhaps fall in love with one,” she says. Her follow-up book, “A Thousand Melodies,” was released October 2024. You can find her books on Amazon.
Stacy Hinojos – Healing and Connection
Healing and Connection: What Poetry Means to Me
I started writing as a child because I had all these ideas in my head. Mostly Seussesque style poetry. The rhythms and rhymes scratched my brain in a happy way. As I entered the awkward pre-teen phase though, that quickly changed. Mentally I was struggling with what was happening to and around me. I constantly felt alone, even in a room full of my friends. I was starting to struggle with how I saw myself. I hadn’t realized that I had fallen into depression. I didn’t even know what depression was until I saw a therapist in college.
Depression in children and teenagers wasn’t talked about in the late 90’s. There weren’t commercials on tv for mediations you could barely pronounce that came with warnings of side affects you would rather not have, like cancer, strokes, or explosive diarrhea. I was always sad, even when good things happened. For instance, I wasn’t even excited about going to Disney World for a class trip. I thought that everyone had trouble sleeping, bouncing between never being able to and not being able to get out of bed. But I knew something was terribly wrong when I started to think like George Bailey in, “It’s a Wonderful Life.”
I started to write throughout the day, instead of when inspiration struck. At first it was just a list of the emotions I was experiencing, as I was experiencing them. But then I started to write about the pain I was feeling, and the flood of questions that raced through my head. I was writing down the conversations I wish I could have with those around me, instead of sitting silently and not engaging. But mostly, I wrote about the loneliness I felt, and the confusion I found in this new emotional darkness I was now living in.
When I started therapy, my therapist asked me about my hobbies. I said that other than reading, I wrote about what I was feeling. She asked if I would mind showing her some of my journals. I was reluctant. I had written about things that no one knew about. I wrote about things that scared me. I wrote about my shame. She kept my journals for a week, returned them, and asked if I ever thought about writing poetry to heal some of my pain. I laughed and didn’t think much about it, until I found myself at a particularly low point a few months later, and I decided to give the exercise a try. I didn’t understand why it helped, but it helped. It guided my mind to focus on a challenge, rather than just the bleakness I felt within every pore of my body. Seeing the words that described what I was experiencing, in poetic form on paper, somehow made me feel better.
After college I moved to a bigger city, fell into a routine with an excellent job, and had some amazing friends. I finally felt like I was finding my way in the world, especially while I was traveling around Europe. I was happier than I had ever been in my whole life, and I stopped writing.
Eventually I found myself married, pregnant, and living in England. While there were some bright spots in that life, I found myself struggling with Post Partum Depression, chronic illnesses, a spouse who wasn’t emotionally supportive, and a mother who was 4,000 miles away dying from cancer. I felt lost. I felt alone. I knew my marriage was headed towards divorce. I didn’t recognize who I was anymore. Somehow, I lost myself and sunk into an abyss of depression I hadn’t experienced before.
One day while I was angry cleaning the kitchen cupboards, inspiration hit. I picked up a pen and started to write more than I ever had. The avalanche of feelings I was experiencing at that time eased. My struggle with depression was starting to lift. The pain of old wounds started to heal. I slowly started to figure out who I was again. I realized that I deserved to be who I longed to be. I also found the strength to move forward, and not give up.
Due to how personal my words were to me; it took me years to share my writing with anyone. After hearing some encouraging feedback, especially from people who didn’t really care for poetry, I began showing my work to a few others. That gave me the confidence to share my work with all of you.
After releasing my first book, I soon found that a lot of what I have felt and experienced weren’t felt by me alone. A few brave souls sent me screenshots of their journals and poetry. Others sent me heartfelt messages filled with their own experiences with depression. My poetry served not only a purpose for me. My words also offered connection and comfort for those who also felt alone in their own struggle with depression.
I write because I need to write. On the days I don’t write, all those heavy feelings I am experiencing accumulate, and they will eventually drown me under waves of concrete that I cannot swim out from. Depression for me is very real, as it is for many of you. Poetry is the healthiest way I have found to process what is sometimes exceedingly difficult to face.
For now, I will continue working on a third book to keep me steady and healthy. Not poetry this time, but flash fiction. Even from the beginning, the idea has changed, and I am sure it will morph a little more as it slowly takes shape. I wanted to challenge myself and force myself out of my comfort zone. But I will still be writing poetry because life continues, and healing takes time.
Thank you, Stacy! Readers, have you used poetry as therapy?