The Gallery was established in 2022, with an inaugural online exhibition.

In 2023, we are excited to host an exhibition in-person at the Royal Children’s Hospital.

With a select group of 20 artists, we have curated an exhibition to deeper explore lived experiences, including a Gallery Event for artists and audiences to connect.

The 2023 exhibition is also available for online viewing, and includes podcast episodes that feature interviews with each artist!

To view the full exhibition, please scroll down. To view a specific artist, please click on one of the names below.

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alex

she / her
15 - 20 years old

  • I love writing - especially fantasy! I'm currently working on a novel, which has been in the works for like four or five years. I’m hoping to finish it soon!

    My dad was born in Portugal, and my mum is Italian, so I'm Portuguese and Italian. I'm actually in Portugal at the moment!

  • I've always wanted to be part of something related to mental health. My mum has always encouraged me to use my writing to help others, like writing a book or being a counsellor. I want to be there for young people going through tough times with mental health and create a safe space where they can open up without judgement.

    When I experienced a different school structure with friends who understood mental health issues, it inspired me to get more involved in mental health advocacy. When I learned about what you guys are doing at the Royal Children's Hospital, I thought it was amazing, and I wish it had been available when I was younger. I want to be part of something that helps people, makes changes, or simply provides validation through my work.

  • I've been on this journey for a decade now, starting when I was about 10 years old in primary school. My home life was filled with stress and my parents had their own issues, which affected me.

    Bullying started in primary school due to my Portuguese and Italian heritage, and I realised I was not straight at a young age. This made me a target, and it led to a lot of anxiety. I began experiencing panic attacks around year five, but back then, people misunderstood anxiety, thinking it was just an excuse to skip school. I didn't get the support I needed, and this made dealing with it harder.

    High school brought more challenges. I struggled to stay in class due to panic attacks and stomach issues. I developed emetophobia (fear of vomiting) and the school didn't provide adequate support. They even stopped me from leaving class during a panic attack once.

    As a result, I became suicidal at around 14 and started self-harming. My relationship with my parents suffered due to school reports that painted me as an attention-seeker. I was in a very dark place, and it continued through my high school years.

    I eventually found relief when I joined a different school structure called Big Picture. It allowed me to focus on projects I was passionate about, and I met friends who understood my struggles. It was a game-changer. However, life had more obstacles in store for me. I moved out of home due to family issues, experienced sexual assault, and developed chronic nausea, which added to my physical health challenges. Despite all these hurdles, I've learned to accept that my mental health journey will have its ups and downs. I've come to appreciate myself, accept my flaws, and find my own pace for recovery.

  • A few years ago, during a dark period, I couldn't stand looking at old family photos. I saw how much I had changed physically and felt immense sadness. I blamed myself for not being stronger and protecting my younger self.

    One night, I had a breakdown where I confronted an image of my younger self, who looked worried and scared. It felt like my brain had broken. The next morning, I wrote about the experience to heal the relationship between my present and younger self. It was a letter of encouragement to my younger self, acknowledging the challenges ahead but also the strength we would find. Writing about my experiences was a way to validate them and find catharsis.

  • I hope that people who have gone through similar experiences can read my work and find even a small amount of peace within themselves.

    I want them to know that their younger selves would look at them with love and admiration for their strength.

    I also hope that my story can inspire others to heal the relationship between their present and past selves, finding acceptance and self-love in the process.

brayden

He / Him
25 - 30 years old

  • I'm a visual artist currently in Geelong. I love making art every day - it's my life! I also enjoy going on hikes, getting out in nature, and listening to music. Right now, I'm studying youth work with the aim of getting into the field of social work. When I was a teenager, I had pretty bad mental health issues. I was sick for a lot of my early teenage years and spent a lot of time in and out of the hospital. After a few tough years and hitting rock bottom, I eventually went to headspace, where therapy and art groups encouraged me to do an art course, and I fell in love with it!

  • That goes back to my experience in the Children's Hospital from 13 to 18. I was there for five years, and they saved my life. I really wouldn't be here without them! I wanted to give back. Also, I'm passionate about helping kids' mental health, especially those who are in the hospital. Being a teenager locked in a hospital bed is mentally devastating, and I was inspired to make a difference.

  • In 2009, when I was 13, I started getting sick rapidly. I had hemolytic anaemia, a condition where my immune system was destroying my blood cells. Doctors struggled to figure out the cause, and it wasn't until years later that they discovered it was my immune system causing the problem. I was at the end of the road for a while. I remember a mument when the doctors told my mum that I had only a day left to live. It was a terrifying experience.

    Fortunately, I received experimental treatment overnight, and it worked wonders. I was still sick for a long time, but I wasn't at death's door anymore. After getting out of the hospital, it took a while to recover from that traumatic experience. Now, I have an autoimmune condition that I manage with treatment, and I'm doing pretty well. I haven't been in the hospital since 2016.

  • The artworks reflect the importance of simple pleasures in life. One piece shows the value of taking an afternoon nap, which is often underappreciated. Another depicts the joy of being in a field of flowers, a mument of forgetting the world. Another artwork shows the bliss of jamming out to music. They represent ways I take care of myself, like naps, listening to music, and immersing myself in nature. I think the most beautiful art is when you can see the artist in the artwork.

    They’re all done with lino printing, which is basically having to draw your design backwards on a piece of lino, carve it with a special tool, and the print it by rolling ink on it. I did them all separately first, but put them together to make this final print!

  • I usually let viewers interpret my art as they like, but if there's a message I want to convey, it's that there's a happy place for everyone. It could be music, napping, spending time with friends, or simply finding solace in something. Even when you're feeling down, there's always something positive you can discover. It might be challenging, but don't hesitate to reach out to someone if you're struggling mentally. You don't have to go through it alone.

charli

Fae / Them
20 - 25 years old"

  • I'm a collagist and a writer. I'm currently studying a Bachelor of Health Science and Arts and majoring in health promotion and gender, sexuality, and diversity studies. I love pistachio ice cream, cat, and boba tea! I’m also on two youth advisory councils with the Satellite Foundation and Body Safety Australia.

  • I mean, I will jump on the opportunity to share my art anytime, but I think this one seemed just really close to my heart because I've spent a lot of time at the Royal Children's! I had a younger brother who was sort of in and out throughout his life, and that meant that me and my family spent a lot of time there. I just really wanted to give back. I really appreciate how amazing the Royal Children's Hospital is. They've made a hospital fun, which is hard to do. There are so many really cool activities and, like the meerkats, a little aquarium, beanbags, and things like that. So I wanted to be a part of that. Mental health is a really important topic to talk about, so I was really keen to do that as well.

  • I grew up in a family that had a lot going on, and there was a lot of stress and trauma throughout my childhood. I just always had anxiety for as long as I can remember, which got progressively worse as I got into high school. That made it really hard to be with my friends, and I was quite socially anxious.

    I also have OCD and didn't know I had it because of stereotypes around it. I have ADHD, so I'm not very organised, which was also hard. I had intrusive thoughts that were unpleasant, which can be taboo to talk about. Being queer and trans in a non-accepting environment also made things really hard, and I didn't come out until I was 21. Eventually, I moved out of home to find more accepting people, got on antidepressants, and later found out I have ADHD and am autistic. Understanding these aspects helped me be gentler with myself. Now, I see a therapist, and my dad is accepting and keen to learn about queer and trans things.

  • I create art to express my feelings, and every art piece comes from a place of trying to tackle mental health in a way. I've been collaging for four years now, and before that, I did scrapbooking, which is similar. It's a way to connect with people, which is good for my mental health. I've started a cat series with positive affirmations, like "go gentle on yourself" and "vulnerability is powerful." My art is colourful and often glittery, and it shows how I've learned to show compassion to myself and to rest. It also addresses societal issues, like one piece called "capitalism kills mental health," highlighting how oppression affects mental health and opportunities.

  • I want people to feel delight, ease, and emotions like joy, peace, and happiness. I love it when people look at my art, and you can see on their face that they're surprised and amazed by all the different colours and details. I want them to feel a sense of ease, as well as things like joy and peace - just all the really nice, lovely feel things!

chase

They / Them
20 - 25 years old

  • I'm a disabled neurodivergent queer person. I have experiences with depression, social anxiety, and C-PTSD. I'm a youth advocate, and I also am a student studying youth work. And my favourite things are pirates and quirky animal facts. A quirky animal fact is that octopuses have donut-shaped brains!

  • I'm very passionate about advocacy, specifically mental health and using my lived experience to inform new legislation and policies to make it better for people in the future. When I was 17, I spent some time in the Royal Children's Hospital’s Banksia Ward, their young people's mental health inpatient unit, so when I saw the Royal Children's Hospital exhibition, I really wanted to join.

  • My first memories of struggling with mental health was when I was like seven or eight. I had a fairly complicated family dynamic. My older brother has contamination-based OCD, and for whatever reason, his brain latched onto me as the trigger. So, anything I touched, anywhere I went became contaminated in his eyes, which brought up lots of anxiety and fear. I found that very hard because it felt personal, even if it's wasn’t.

    To keep the peace in my family and reduce stress, I made compromises on my own happiness. I wouldn't go to places I wanted to go so they could be safe places for him. I found that really hard. But I always prided myself on being an easy and good child, so I didn't stress anyone out. I really bottled everything down. I have a lot of anxiety. I was bullied in primary and high school, for being a quirky kid and later for being trans and queer. I didn't talk to anyone about that for a long time.

    School stress led to a suicide attempt. After that, I spent a few days in the hospital and was referred to the Banksia Ward. It wasn't the best experience, unfortunately. I felt misunderstood and like I was doing everything wrong. Some staff weren't knowledgeable or respectful. I had awful interactions with a specific nurse.

    Eventually, I left, which was a weight off my shoulders. Everyone in my family knew, but there was guilt about putting them through it. It took a long time to be okay with that feeling.

    I'm much better at communicating my feelings now. I started medication and therapy. It didn't necessarily get better, but it got easier. The more I was open about my mental health, the less alone I felt, even if I had depression, anxiety, and PTSD symptoms. That's where I am today.

  • I've got a series of three artworks based on different flags. The first one has a lesbian pride flag with someone reaching out. It represents a time in high school when I first realised I was in love with my best friend. I didn't know how to feel because I'd never heard about being gay before. It was scary.

    The next one is a trans flag with someone curled up. It's about high school when I was developing a relationship with my body, realising it wasn't quite right. I didn't like how I was perceived. Both represent coming to terms with those things. I learned from meeting other queer people that it wasn't something to be scared of. The blackout poetry represents that.

    The last one is newer for me, discovering autistic behaviours and identifying with that community. Much of the bullying I went through was because of traits that didn't fit the norm. Meeting other autistic people made me love those things in myself.

  • For the most part, I want people to not feel alone. I want them to not feel like I did as a little kid, like no one else feels like how I do, and no one else wants to hear how I feel. But people do. People are out there who want to listen, help, and are more lucky than you realise. Seek those people out because they will make you the happiest in the world.

chloe

She / They
15 - 20 years old

  • I like dogs, colours, and sunshine! My favourite dogs are sausage dogs, corgis, and labradors. Whenever I see a sausage dog or a corgi, it's like good luck from the universe. I used to have a chocolate labrador when I was a little kid, and he was my best friend. Now whenever I see one, I'm reminded of that lovely connection and it makes me warm inside.

  • I had spent some time as an inpatient in the Banksia Ward when I was 13 or 14. The staff and the way it was set up had a big impact on me. It seemed like a way of giving back to those who took care of me.

    Art is a different way of understanding the human condition. It can get a bit dreary with Western psychology. But art welcomes all kinds of knowledge. A big part of my mental health is about wholeness, not getting everything right. It's been through making art that's healing for me.

  • I've always had a bit of a strange brain. I was always the kid doing weird stuff. I first started struggling with anxiety in primary school, not wanting to go to school and feeling burnt out from acting normal. Going into high school without support was overwhelming. I started going to therapy at 12, and it became an identity crutch. Later, neurodiversity came into the picture, and it shifted my self-identity. I had a different brain and more self-compassion. Now, I see my mental health as something that enables me to see the world in a different way. I think it is a superpower, even if that’s corny. There's something powerful in there - a revolution of the outsiders.

  • This project came out of me feeling inspired by the world post-COVID lockdowns. I started writing little poems on sticky notes when I was volunteering at the Dax Centre.

    Eventually, I began crafting gifts for others and delving into the art of carving wood, which became incredibly cathartic.Often we feel like our stories and like our challenges are like kind of part of our being, like they're kind of carved into us. And the carving out onto the wood for me was such a thing of kind of transferring things like out of like this vessel - my weird body - into like a piece of wood. Now it will always be a part of me that now I can take it out and look at it. I can see it and it's no longer some like mysterious feeling.

    These creations have taken on a life of their own, outlasting my own existence, and have become a way for me to transfer emotions from metaphorical thoughts to tangible objects. Art has played a significant role in my mental health journey, often feeling like I'm performing a kind of magic.

  • I want people to feel like co-revelers, to have a sense of wonder that is still very real. We need to stir the pot ourselves and invent magic. It's a weird time to be alive, so let's have a bit of a giggle. Let's get together and have a laugh under the moon!

    Mental health care needs to acknowledge the need for wonder and magic. Making art and saying, "This is a space where you get to do whatever you want" is important. If someone gets a sense of their own dark thoughts from my art, that'd be nice. Essentially, I want to make space for people to feel like it's okay to feel a little lost. I can give them a sense of magic, a love affair with light, and the freedom to create their own constellations.

cristina

She / Her
45 - 50 years old

  • I'm in my 40s. I'm a mum of two now young women. I enjoy being creative, gaming, and having pet rats - we've had nine at one time. My two kids are both wonderful warrior women. My eldest daughter works in government, and she's a caring person who has lots of holidays, and I get to cat-sit. My youngest has been through a lot but is delightful and funny. I really love it.

  • I wanted to join the mental health gallery because I think it gives carers a voice to express what it's like for carers. People often don't understand or know what it's like, and sometimes it's scary to talk about it. Often, people don't comprehend the challenges faced by carers, and sometimes we're hesitant to share our stories because of fear or judgment. I think it's crucial to shed light on the struggles faced by carers. I've noticed that many carers support groups mainly consist of older individuals caring for aged loved ones. Young caregivers like myself can be somewhat hidden, and I believe it's essential for more people to acknowledge and understand our unique challenges.

  • My personal journey as a carer has been challenging. My daughter was diagnosed with being on the autistic spectrum when she was 13, and her difficulties at school led to my increasing caregiving responsibilities. As she became an adult, mental health issues emerged, and we struggled to get the right help within the system.

    We went through multiple hospital stays and disagreements among doctors. It felt like we were shooed away and made to feel like pests, but we didn't give up. We eventually found a wonderful psychiatrist who made a significant difference.

  • My artwork spans two decades and reflects my role as a caregiver for my daughter. It portrays the escalating impact of mental health issues, particularly over the past eight years. My pieces incorporate elements such as paperwork from mental health tribunals, NDIS support records, medication history, pharmacy billing codes, and NDIS provider rights.

    This artwork conveys the overwhelming nature of caring for someone with mental health challenges and navigating the complex bureaucracy involved. I'm not a trained mental health professional, and often it feels like I'm expected to be one when others aren't doing their job. It's a constant feeling of being unqualified, but we persist because there's no other choice.

  • I hope people feel the chaos that often surrounds mental health issues and caregiving. It's vital to recognise that small victories, like getting someone out for a walk, are significant achievements. I also want people to understand that change is possible.

    Sometimes, people focus on minor mistakes, but no one is perfect. Human connection is essential, even when surrounded by chaos. I hope it encourages connections and understanding among viewers.

emma

She / Her
25 - 30 years old

  • I paint on the weekends and I do all kinds of crafts. I love animals (you might be able to tell from my art) and I love being in nature. My favourite animals are birds, chickens, and cockatoos!

  • I would really like to show someone that it can get better. Even if full recovery might not be an option, you can learn to manage it and live with it and still have a really nice and worthwhile life. I’d like to provide something that someone can relate to. In recovery, I looked online or to other people to see if others had similar experiences because sometimes you can feel quite alone, and it can be hard to express what you're going through to be understood by others. So I hope that if others see themselves in my art, that would be a really nice thing.

  • I've struggled primarily with depression and an eating disorder during my teenage years, with periods of suicidal thoughts. Throughout my life, I've had both periods of illness and wellness. The last couple of years, I've been working my way out of a nasty relapse that paused my life for a while. So that's where my art comes from, that latest period where I have clarity and understanding.

  • Two of my paintings here kind of contradict each other and show how I've progressed in my recovery. The one with the crow depicts my anger at my eating disorder. I hated that it was there, so I depicted it as this nasty, dirty crow, like, "Please just leave me alone."

    Later, I started seeing my eating disorder as more like a little boy, someone who struggles. I've accepted that it's a part of me now. Sometimes I still get annoyed at him; it's not always a loving relationship. Sometimes I don't realise it's him, which can be hard. But once I do, I have more power and insight to guide him in the right direction.

    There's also the third painting of the stork. It started as a happy painting during a good time in my life. I painted the stork with its head back because they do that when they are happy. I had my first job out of uni and I was feeling on top of the world. My recovery was going well.

    But then life happened and there were some stressful things and that little boy showed up for me again. He thinks he thinks is helping me he thinks is helping by taking control. But sometimes it can be hard to realize that it doesn't actually help.

    The ribbon in the painting represents the coming and going of my eating disorder. I was questioning if it would ever fully detach from me or if it's just a part of me that returns when life gets tough. I was grappling with that and didn't have a clear answer.

    But each time I guess I've had waves or that ribbon comes back into me, I’ve learned to be kinder to myself. I think eating disorders are so full of hate. So much hate in yourself or at yourself. It's such a more pleasant headspace when you're talking to yourself in a nice way or that part of you in a nice and you're not rejecting yourself and hating on yourself. And ultimately that helps in your recovery.

  • I would really love for someone to feel less alone. It would be really lovely if someone felt inspired. I don't know if that's too a high expectation!

    When I start a painting, I have an emotion and a concept or process in mind. Then I think about what animal or what colors do I want to choose? So I think if people can understand the emotion behind it or maybe connect with that. That's what I would love.

frankie

She / They
25 - 30 years old

  • I think self-discovery in my life in the past couple of years has been quite elaborate. It's been really nice to figure out who I am, what kind of person I've become, and what kind of contribution I make to the world, not only to the physical world but also to myself and my own healing. I love art, which is the main reason I'm here. I'm currently doing my Masters in Arts and Culture Business Management. My pet cat is named Tortellini. He's very cute, though very naughty. I'm attracted to artistic things and creating things. I think that's what's great about people that are neurodivergent - we have such a craving and interest in everything!

  • The Children's Mental Health Gallery really spoke to me as an artist and my mental health experiences. I have experienced many different things as a child and throughout my lifetime that have contributed to my mental health. The aspect of it being a children's gallery is important because it encourages young people to understand and express their mental health, helping them grow up appreciating who they are and how to deal with different challenges.

  • I had tendencies of ADHD growing up but was often told to calm down and just be happy. It was challenging because I couldn't sit still and didn't care about anything. As I grew up, this feeling persisted, and I felt lost and sad. I had an interesting personality, trying to be a funny and happy person but feeling sad inside.

    I also struggled with body image issues and developed an eating disorder, which led to a very low point in my mental health. However, as I got older and understood my mental health better, I learned to navigate it, and it helped me become a better person.

    Getting diagnosed with ADHD was a turning point and explained a lot of my emotions. Medication, online forums, and practical advice from others with similar experiences have been helpful. I quit art for years but returned to it after my diagnosis, finding a new way to create art that works for me.

  • My mental health journey is shown more through my process than my art content itself. I used to struggle to finish paintings and would often criticise myself heavily for it. I found solace in doodling and simple drawings, where I could complete a piece in one sitting. I once had to create 20 pieces for an exhibition in two weeks, and I discovered through that pressure what really helps me produce art. I discovered that understanding and supporting my neurodivergence, such as giving myself deadlines or stimulating my mind by listening to podcasts, has really allowed me to enjoy the process more and create meaningful art!

  • I want people to feel like they're on a journey when they view my art. I want them to explore the details and find their own meaning in the different elements of the piece. I enjoy it when people get immersed in the artwork, letting their eyes wander and discover the subtleties. I’d love for people to find their own interpretations, remain curious, and I hope they find muments of connection and meaning within the piece!

gurvinder

She / Her
25 - 30 years old

  • I wear many hats – I'm an artist, I work in a community mental health setting, I'm a counsellor, and most importantly, a lived experience advocate. I've experienced my own mental health journey and supported family members through theirs. I'm also a fur-mum of two pugs, Espresso and Martini. Together, they make Espresso Martini!

  • It's essential for me to share my story, especially as part of a minority group in Australia. I have a South Asian heritage, and my journey speaks to the intersection of culture and mental health. I want to continue expressing these complex life experiences through art to break the stigma. I believe it's crucial because there are people out there feeling isolated, thinking no one talks about these issues in our cultures. I want them to know they're not alone, and things can get better. We're paving this path for future generations.

  • Absolutely. My journey was often brushed under the carpet due to stigma and shame within my family. I felt isolated, especially during the period when I attempted suicide and had suicidal ideations. Seeking help as a working adult was significant, as therapy helped me understand that nothing was inherently wrong with me. It was about external circumstances and my life experiences. Therapy was validating and instrumental in rebuilding myself. Without it, I wouldn't have been able to create this artwork. From periods of low motivation and struggling with self-worth, I've come a long way. Mental health started as something I needed help with, and I'm proud of that experience, knowing it doesn't define me.

  • Each artwork is unique and speaks to different experiences.

    The first piece, "You're Safe with Me," is a tribute to dedicating a safe space for my inner child. We always carry that inner child within us, and sometimes past experiences get triggered. It's about self-parenting and providing that safe space. The intentional use of pastel colors and both figures holding a paintbrush represents my childhood outlet for anger and sadness through art. As an adult, art still helps me but in a different way. These artworks fulfill me and remind me of my journey. Mental health, like everyone's, ebbs and flows. It's a reminder of self-love and self-compassion.

    “Dreamer," is challenging because I grew up being told I couldn't dream big. I didn't come from a privileged background, so I had to work for everything. But despite that, I've learned that manifestation works, and giving myself permission to dream is essential. It's the work I have to do. I surround myself with these artworks to continue my healing journey. Even on days when I don't feel everything they represent, they remind me that my feelings don't define me. They'll pass, and I may have another good day where I feel connected to my body and grateful for it. The art represents both sides of the coin.

    “Loving Our Body" speaks to my struggles growing up. My mental health began affecting my physical health, leading to autoimmune issues. I used to pick at myself and disassociate from my body, blaming it. As I got older and developed menstrual disorders and polycystic ovarian syndrome, those feelings returned. Creating this artwork was about expressing gratitude to my body, acknowledging that the perfect body is a myth. We need to care for it, just like a machine needs maintenance. It was a turning point, and I keep it as a reminder of acceptance.

  • I want people to feel the whole spectrum of emotions, but mainly reassured and validated. I want to debunk the misconception that art has to be perfect and encourage people to pursue creative outlets. Mental health often intersects with art, music, or other forms of expression. I hope people see my work and realise they don't have to be perfect; they can express themselves deeply and authentically. If someone resonates with that and allows themselves to feel when looking at my artwork, that's great.

jen

She / Her
25 - 30 years old

  • Currently, I'm studying for my doctorate in clinical psychology with the goal of becoming a psychologist soon. It's been a lifelong dream of mine! I'm passionate about suicide prevention and conducting research in that area. In my spare time, I enjoy spending time with my husband and my Chihuahua named Rickety. We love playing board games, even though I'm not very good at them. I also volunteer and support organisations for people with mental health difficulties, facilitating support groups for anxiety and body dysmorphic disorder. Some of my favourite activities include embroidering, drinking tea, watching TV shows, going for walks, listening to podcasts, and reading.

  • When I saw the gallery, I thought it was a great opportunity to share my experiences with mental health and caring for those with mental health difficulties through art. I admire mental health advocates who can articulate their experiences clearly, something I find challenging. Art allows me to communicate my experiences when words fail.

  • I started experiencing mental health challenges in primary school, which peaked during adolescence and young adulthood. Around year five or six, I had thoughts of not wanting to be around anymore, feeling lonely, and unable to share with family and friends.

    I felt overwhelmed and isolated because people perceived it as attention-seeking. I sought support through Kids Helpline and had access to a psychologist at school. Finding a community online and among people I knew who were going through similar experiences helped me immensely. Now, I have a sense of balance, I'm studying to become a psychologist, and I've learned to reach out for help, set boundaries, and prioritise my needs. These experiences drive my work and interest in mental health.

  • Most of my pieces are simple self-portraits that convey my experience with mental health. The artwork with different people on a tree represents our unique journeys coming together and is filled with colour. The one where I'm depicted in a jar, represents feeling trapped but finding a way to escape and heal through self-love and nurturing. The teacup artwork was created during a difficult time when brewing tea was my solace, a reminder to slow down and hang on. The last artwork features me and my two youngest sisters, symbolising our support for each other amidst our mental health challenges. It reflects the balance of being there for others while also taking care of oneself, something I've learned as a carer.

  • I want people to feel hope, warmth, and perhaps even joy when they view my art. For those who've experienced similar difficulties, I hope it resonates and makes them feel less alone. For those unfamiliar with these struggles, I hope it offers insight into the world of mental health difficulties.

jodi

She / Her
45 - 50 years old

  • I'm a mother to six children aged 28, 25, 18, 16, 13, and my daughter, Cosette, who sadly passed away last year at 5 years old. I've got two grandchildren aged 3 and 1, and I'm known as “Grandma JoJo” to them. I'm a Lived Experience Advisor in some groups through the Royal Children's Hospital and a consumer representative for Palliative Care Australia and Royal Australasian College of Physicians. I hope to use my lived experience to work with other carers of children under complex care. Recreationally, I enjoy seeing live bands, recently got back into volunteering at festivals.

  • In last year’s gallery, it was wonderful to see work from patients, family, and staff of all ages and backgrounds. This year, I wanted to share my artwork, encouraging creativity in others. My artwork is inspired by my experience of grief and loss, and the creative process has been healing for me. I feel privileged to be part of this year’s gallery.

  • I've experienced depression, fear, anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, and continue to grieve for my daughter, Cosette, who passed away. She first went to the Children's Hospital when she was just two weeks old and had many admissions. The longest was one year, as she needed a bone marrow transplant due to her life-limiting condition. I was in anticipatory grief for a long time. It wasn't until I reached out for help and support that I began to understand the importance of self-care. I had a counsellor, engaged in art therapy, and received support from social workers and the palliative care team. These people reminded me of the importance of self-care, restoration, and happiness. I kept a gratitude journal and found moments of beauty and connection in everyday life.

  • I want people to remember and honour Cosette, the bravest person I've known. I hope my love for her shines through in the softness and colours of my felt pieces and in the words I've written. I want people to know they are never alone and that reaching out for support is essential. My artwork reflects hope and healing.

    I hope that my art captures the beauty and precious muments I created for Cosette. I encourage people to listen to their intuition, do what feels right for them, and remember that, even in challenging times, they are not alone.

  • The first artwork is "Cosette’s Sunset," which represents joy. The process involves wet felting, where I use Merino fleece to create layers of color, followed by warm water and washing detergent. After hours of rolling and rubbing, it becomes felt. This technique connects me to my daughter because I used to teach kids how to felt at her kindergarten. It reminds me of our trips to the lookout to watch sunsets, a place where I feel close to her. I find it soothing and healing.

    The second artwork is "Unconditional Love," inspired by a pastel drawing I did during an online workshop. It's based on a memory of my daughter wanting to release a balloon outside the hospital. She didn't want it tied to her wrist, and when it flew away, she watched it with amazement. A kind nurse and a stranger's act of buying her another balloon made it even more special. This piece represents the muments of joy we shared, even in difficult times, and the kindness of people around us.

    The third artwork is a poem I wrote during a sunset observation. I often go to a quiet spot with special songs from Cosette's life and write. The poem reflects my grief, loss, and connection with my daughter as a spirit guiding me. It emphasizes the importance of embracing change and new possibilities, being kind to myself, and cherishing the support network that has helped me cope with grief.

laura

She / Her
25 - 30 years old

  • I am a disabled woman living in Wurundjeri country, and I love to read. You can usually find me with a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other! At the mument, I'm reading "The Luminous Solution" by Charlotte Wood. It's a collection of essays about creativity, resilience, and inner life. I'm reading it one essay at a time to absorb the ideas in each piece. Each time I read one, I feel a sense of serenity and motivation to write.

  • Primarily, I joined because mental health is fundamental to all of us. My understanding of mental health and its impact on me has grown since I was young. I've used creativity to channel and understand my mental health, mostly through words. When I saw the mental health gallery, it was a fusion of my passions, writing and advocating for mental health, especially for those with different mental processes like mine.

  • I've been a really anxious person my whole life. My first understanding of dealing with mental health challenges was when I was young. I have memories of being very young and thinking about suicidal ideation, self-harm, and feeling that the world would be better without me. Now, I can see that those thoughts were a lie. I remember having these thoughts as early as grade one when I felt like no one liked me and wanted to hide in my school bag. I was aware of wanting to withdraw and not be myself. I was emotionally sensitive, and comments from others like "You're too sensitive" or "Get over it" made me feel like my feelings were wrong. I internalized that I needed to change.

    I developed low self-esteem and feelings of guilt, thinking I was a bad friend, student, sister, daughter, and more. When I was 11, I started self-harming as a way to cope with my intense emotions. I didn't know how to talk about it, so I lied and said it was an accident. My parents found out when I was 15-16, and they arranged for me to see a psychologist and undergo dialectical behavior therapy (DBT).

    In therapy, I learned about emotional invalidation and how to regulate my emotions separately from others' judgments. DBT helped me build a skill set to cope with my emotions and recognise when I was coping maladaptively. I also had a tendency to pull away from people when I felt rejected, wanting to be in control of the hurt by rejecting them first. This pattern has been a recurring theme in my life.

    Working through these challenges with the support of my psychologist, family, and friends hasn't always been easy. I've regretted how my mental health impacted people in my life, and some aren't in my life anymore because of it. However, I've learned to have grace for myself and understand that recovery isn't linear; it's a journey of ups and downs.

  • The artworks are a series of vignettes, each about 100 words long. They are fragments pulled from longer memoir pieces I've written over the years. I chose them to create a narrative arc.

    The first artwork explores a sense of powerlessness, particularly during my teenage years when I felt stuck and believed something was fundamentally broken in me. There are allusions to self-harm. The second section signifies a shift in my self-perception, realising I'm not broken, and it introduces words like "invalidation" and "emotion regulation." The third piece reflects my present understanding that my journey is ongoing. It's about understanding that I'm not perfect, finding joy, and self-acceptance.

  • I hope people feel that they're not alone and recognise that they are essential in their unique constellation of relationships. I want them to see the world and themselves differently. I also hope my art inspires hope, showing that after darkness, there's the possibility of something different, even if it's not always sunshine and rainbows.

mieke

She / Her
15 - 20 years old

  • I'm a singer, songwriter, and producer from Beechworth, Victoria. I love performing gigs around the area and advocating for queer young people in our regional community. Creating awareness for people like myself is really important to me. I’m studying music at TAFE to gain the skills to produce my own music. I also work as youth resilience worker, where we focus on disaster resilience in the community and organise events to bring our community together, especially after recent disasters like COVID and bushfires. Music became a significant part of my life a few years ago when I started to accept my sexuality. It helped me understand my emotions, cope with my mental health, and share my experiences through songwriting, which I see as capturing a mument in time.

  • I joined the Children's Mental Health Gallery because I wanted to share my story and hopefully inspire others who are in a similar situation. I hope that when people hear my song and story, they realise that it's okay to be themselves, even if they come from a religious background or have faced discrimination. I want them to know that they can be happy on the other side of it. Many people are raised with certain beliefs, and it can be scary to challenge those beliefs. But it's important to know that it's okay to let go of what doesn't serve you and embrace your authentic self.

  • Growing up in a Christian environment and attending church regularly while not seeing any representation of LGBTQ+ individuals, especially in regional Victoria, made it challenging to understand my identity. I went to a Catholic school where there was no education about queer relationships. This made my coming out process difficult.

    My dad's acceptance was a slow process after I came out to him; it wasn't instant support and love. However, he began to understand the toll this was taking on my mental health and realized that not accepting me wouldn't benefit anyone. My song helped him question his beliefs.

    I empathise with people who hold discriminatory views; it can be a close-minded perspective that's also stressful for them. I, too, struggled when I realised my feelings because I believed in God at the time. It was a long process of shedding old beliefs, but I eventually let go of the aspects of Christianity that hindered my authentic life. It's challenging to let go of something that's been a part of your life for so long.

  • My original song "Black and White" reflects my journey of learning to accept my sexuality and stepping away from hurtful religious beliefs that didn't allow me to be myself. I used to hold close-minded views due to the teachings I received from a young age, which led to internalised homophobia and fear of being myself. As I came to terms with my sexuality, my mental health improved, and I started feeling pride in who I am.

    However, my song also addresses the continued homophobia that the LGBTQ+ community faces in daily life, which is why it has a strong message of protest. It encourages people to question their beliefs and treat queer individuals with respect and kindness. I want people to know that despite the challenges, we deserve love, acceptance, and happiness.

  • I want people to feel hope and empowerment. I hope they realise that it's okay to let go of beliefs and views that don't serve them and that they should embrace their authentic selves. Everyone deserves love, acceptance, and happiness, and I want my song to be a message of hope to those who may feel trapped or constricted by negative beliefs. I want them to know that they can choose to walk away from anything that holds them back from being true to themselves.

natasha

She / They
20 - 25 years old

  • I'm Malaysian, and I have a deep passion for art and theatre. I enjoy creating, especially within the realm of immersive and experimental theatre. I'm drawn to productions that challenge traditional norms and boundaries, as I have a keen interest in the unconventional aspects of theatre.

  • I came across information about a gallery focusing on mental health and personal experiences, and it immediately struck a chord with me. My art has always revolved around mental health, but I never had a comfortable space to share it openly. Many people around me didn't appreciate or understand its value, which led me to hide my creations away. When I heard about this gallery, I was elated. I believe in the importance of creating spaces that destigmatise mental health issues, especially coming from a culture where such topics are heavily stigmatised and ignored. I wanted to actively support a culture that values support over shame, listening over ignorance, and upliftment over neglect.

  • My personal journey with mental health has been rather unclear and ongoing. I believe that's the essence of it - a continuous exploration. Growing up in a culture that lacked education about both mental and physical health, my family never really supported either aspect. Even when physically unwell, we were often shamed or dismissed. This upbringing left me with a tendency to downplay my pain or suffering.

    As an asylum seeker, we didn't have access to healthcare, and my first doctor's visit was a memorable experience, albeit expensive. I had asthma, but it wasn't taken seriously, and one instance in year 12 was particularly frightening. It's been challenging to validate my mental health struggles, but finding a supportive community and keeping an open mind has been instrumental in navigating this journey. Forgiveness plays a role too, as I strive to understand and heal.

  • The first one is my favourite. It's called "The Eyes on the Walls." Initially, it explored my experiences with depression and anxiety, highlighting how one can lead to the other, the interplay between them, and the resulting emotional drain and loneliness. However, it now holds a different meaning for me. A family member, my dad, struggles with mental health issues, though I'm uncertain about the specific diagnosis due to the stigma surrounding therapy in our culture. Recently, my dad has been talking to himself and even conversing with walls, which has been emotionally challenging for me. This artwork now symbolises my fear of inheriting generational trauma and feeling isolated in that process.

    The second artwork is a tote bag featuring drawings of a father and daughter on a journey. It starts with them surrounded by yellow, representing the joy they once shared. As they move forward, the daughter grows up, but the father clings to the memory of her as a child.

    The third artwork depicts lungs with strings tied around them, symbolising suffocation. It also represents my childhood struggles with asthma, as I didn't have access to proper medical care.

    The fourth artwork shows human heads with strings attached, symbolising dissociation and feeling like a balloon, tethered only by a single string.

    The fifth and final artwork was created after a terrifying asthma attack when my lips turned blue. I remember feeling like I was about to die, and in my Muslim faith, you say the shahada before passing away. Thankfully, I survived that night, and this artwork represents that experience.

  • I hope my art helps people connect with the unexplored parts of themselves, making them feel understood in ways they never were before. I want to make people feel listened to and less alone in their mental health journey. It's a path that can often be lonely, and by destigmatising mental health through art, I aim to create a sense of belonging and understanding within our community.

ren

She / They
15 - 20 years old

  • I'm a proud queer autistic who has a passion for writing, performing, creating, and connecting. I grew up undiagnosed and didn't find out I was autistic until I was 16 years old. Since finding that out, it's been a lot like a roller coaster - lots of ups and downs. I've lost friendships because of it, but honestly, I love myself more than ever now that I know that I'm autistic.

  • When I first heard about the Children's Mental Health Gallery, I got really excited. I've done a few different projects about sharing my story and hearing other people's stories. I just love creating - it's always been how I express myself when I can't talk to anybody about what's going on inside my head. I could just create something to show them. I believe lived and living experience is something that should be valued. I know how important it is to have an open discussion about mental health. So, I wanted to share my work and give something to the world that the younger me would have felt seen by and hopefully, it helps other people feel seen.

  • Growing up undiagnosed, I was conditioned to believe that there was something inherently wrong with me. I hated myself for years because I never understood why I was the way I was. I always felt like I was overdramatic, or a brat, or just stupid for how I felt. Being undiagnosed has had many problems for my mental health. I battled depression and anxiety since I was around 11 years old. I've experienced disordered eating, suicidal ideation, and minor hallucinations. To deal with all of this, I haven't always resorted to the best coping strategies, mainly because I didn't know what to do. I didn't know why I felt this way. I felt ashamed and like a failure for not being the happy little girl that everyone knew me as. I genuinely felt really lost and alone.

    I still battle with my mental health problems every day. But over the past few years, I've learned to nurture and care for my needs. I've gone to therapy, learned how to seek help, and realised that I don't have to do this alone. Just knowing that I, as an autistic person, have different thought patterns, desires, emotional and physical needs, and that it's okay to recognise and meet them in any setting. I've learned to stand up for myself, others, and help myself speak up and receive the accommodation I require. I've surrounded myself with people who truly love who I am, authentically me. It's all helped my mental health. Mental health is something that everyone will experience at some point in their life. It's important to learn that healing isn't linear. You just have to give the love and care to yourself that you deserve.

  • My piece "To That Little Girl" is essentially a love letter to my younger autistic self. It's a poem that addresses all of my past insecurities and replaces them with parts of my autism that I've learned to love and appreciate. It's almost like a series of affirmations, and each word is slowly healing a part of her and my damaged self-image, confidence, and mental health. I may be 18 now and no longer a child, but my inner child is only just now beginning to feel comfortable in her own skin. That's what I hope to share with that—just to help people connect and see that younger people are important too. I want to help the younger generation of autistic people understand that they're not broken - they’re incredibly beautiful just the way they are.

  • I want people to feel a little more sympathetic to themselves and their inner child. I want people to feel hopeful that they can accept parts of themselves that they used to hate, and that it's going to be okay. It's okay if the past was difficult, but with each passing mument, you become a new person, and you just have to be a little kinder to yourself and a little kinder to that little kid that resides inside you still.

starry

She / Her
25 - 30 years old

  • I'm a visual artist that was born in China and moved to Australia by myself in 2011 when I was 18 to study. I use my visual art to express my mental condition. I've been experiencing mental health issues for almost 10 years, and that's one of the reasons I chose to participate in this gallery.

  • I joined because I've been experiencing major depressive disorder since 2014. I've been struggling a lot, so I understand how people with mental health problems face difficulties in society and may isolate themselves. I want to use my artwork to show that they are not alone. I want to make a connection with them and offer support. I also want to connect with myself.

  • I felt like no one understood me, not even my family. Every time I told them about my depression, they thought I was joking. They had this idea that if you have depression, you isolate yourself and don't communicate with people. Many people can pretend to be normal outside. My daily routine was a mess; I couldn't sleep properly, had no motivation to study, and my mind couldn't process information. I lost my appetite and cried for no reason. I also tried to escape from reality by watching a lot of drama. Until I decided to ask for help by myself, I started my psychology sessions. I went for about seven sessions and then felt the need to take a break from studying. I took a leave of absence for about half a year. I started proper treatment, including medication and hospital visits. I think it was a really tough time, and I also went through a breakup, so it felt like a triple blow.

    Back then, I was studying architecture, but I realised it wasn't suitable for me. I finished that degree but decided to pursue something else. I started thinking about what I wanted to do, and my symptoms worsened. I took another break and started considering art because I had loved it since I was a child. Even during my depression, I continued doing photography in my daily life. So, I thought about studying photography.

    I only had five subjects left to finish my architecture degree, but in Asian parents' minds, they think being an artist won't support you in the future. They believe being an architect offers more job security and a better life. Most of my friends couldn't understand either, but I decided that if I didn't make a change, I wouldn't have a strong reason to continue living. That's why I chose to change completely and went to study photography. Now, I can say that I really thank myself for that decision. Even though I'm still struggling with depression, I feel like art has saved my life. It also provides support to my friends who are struggling with mental health problems. This spiritual support brings joy and a sense of purpose. When you create and receive feedback that says, "I could feel you through your art," it's a deeply satisfying feeling.

  • The first two photographs depict the black holes inside of me. I use a lot of black ink and dark galaxy features in my photographs because, when you ask me about my identity, I can only feel like my life is like a dark hole. I've always been a sensitive person, and I think those dark aspects are a part of me, even though I try to appear happy. I use symbolism and metaphor to express this part of me. The three smaller images are from my first moving image project called "Falling." In my mind, there's always an image of falling into a black hole, and I tried to convey that through this project. I used symbols like the transition from brightness to darkness and black ink to express these depressive emotions. I also incorporated the packaging of my medication in my films, as I've been collecting them since I was 14. It was satisfying to use them in my art. Initially, I was worried that my art, which portrays darkness and negative emotions, wouldn't be accepted. However, one of my teachers told me that I didn't need everyone to accept it; those who know me will connect with my art without me having to explain it. I didn't have to follow trends.

  • I want them to know that they are not alone. Especially for people who have experienced similar or related experiences as me. I want them to know to not be afraid to ask for help. Even if your family or friends does not understand, you still should ask him for help when you really need it. Dont give up because someday you will find something that will support you to continue living.

sue

She / Her
60 - 65 years old

  • I grew up in Johannesburg, South Africa. I graduated as an architect in 1982. My late husband and I had three daughters, and I now live in Melbourne. I was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was 47 years old. As an architect, I've always been interested in the visual, and I channel my creative energy into printmaking, as a form of therapy to deal with the diagnosis of breast cancer.

  • I feel that I can contribute by sharing my story of confronting the physical and emotional challenges of having breast cancer and being a carrier of the BRCA gene mutations. Art opens up conversations about uncomfortable topics, and I want to contribute to the discourse and express my journey through my diaries and art. I believe I can make the journey more bearable for others, and we, as patients, mothers, fathers, children, and people, are not alone. We should be able to access support, and art has been a great support as a processing tool to break the stigma around having physical, mental, and health challenges.

  • Cancer or the diagnosis of a hereditary gene can cause emotional distress. The BRCA gene is a tumour suppressor gene, and if one has a mutation in it, it may lead to a high risk of breast and ovarian cancer. I inherited the gene from my mother, who inherited it from her mother. In my grandmother's generation, cancer was not spoken about; it was a big "C" word. I got breast cancer at 47 years old; I'm now 63. I started writing a journal given to me by my eldest daughter Sarah.

    I had a double mastectomy operation and I also had a preventative hysterectomy. I am a survivor, and my daughters, who have the gene, Sarah, my eldest, and Gabriella, the youngest, have made the decision to have preventative double mastectomies. Each daughter has been an advocate for creating awareness about this BRCA gene mutation to make people less afraid and empower them to make choices about their own bodies.

  • The first artwork is a drawing of a stork superimposed over my mother's poetry written in 1976. As a child, I had a recurring nightmare about a stork in our garden that had injured its leg. I would call my mother in my dream to come and help the stork and make it better. The stork represents the animal who would bring the babies; in simplistic terms, my mother was injured, and I could not help her. My mother was diagnosed when she was 26 and had a double mastectomy, a hysterectomy, and a brain tumour that she survived until she was 53 years old through the treatment of chemotherapy.

    The next picture depicts my mother on her wedding day, myself on my wedding day, and organic shapes and the use of yellow symbolises life and light. The image of the breast is the thread that interconnects us via the gene.

    The next pictures are artworks of torsos, which explore the natural fragmentation and deconstruction of my body after having a double mastectomy. The first torso represents the skeleton behind the flesh that has been surgically removed, as well as the feeling of being battered. The next one has a happier feeling about what's happening in my life. And this represents a breath of life being blown back into the skin. The figure is not deconstructed - it is all seen as a whole body. The final image of the two torsos is the image of the skeleton behind the now playful representation of breasts and the figures emerging over it. It is the beginning of recovery.

  • I want people to feel that they're not alone. I want to create awareness of the BRCA and other hereditary genes. Openness about the mutation can make it something we can engage with without fear, shame, or stigma. I'm not an advocate for each individual making the same decisions that I've made, but I'll definitely advocate for people to take agency over their body and make decisions authentic to themselves. I've tried to live consciously, appreciating love, filling my days with joy, meaning, and laughter. Our openness has enabled my children to have open discussions about confronting issues. I'm proud of my daughters who are strong, resilient, creative, loving, and appreciative women who show gratitude for life.

sunny

They / Them
20 - 25 years old

  • I’m an artist and animator. I studied animation in university, and I enjoy working with various mediums, like watercolours and gouache. Dogs are a big part of my life - my family's dog, Willow, a Border Collie, is my best friend. I got Willow when I was 17 after years of persuading my mum! I'm a very creative person, and my work is a reflection of that.

  • I joined because I often incorporate my mental health journey into my work. Even in my writing, I tend to include snippets about my mental health. My art is deeply connected to my personal experiences. During university, I struggled with conforming to typical animation narratives, and I realised I prefer telling stories based on my own experiences rather than structured fiction.

  • I started experiencing depression when I was 13. I distinctly remember feeling out of place at school and decided to check out a Beyond Blue checklist. It seemed to resonate with what I was going through, even though I hesitated to say something was wrong with me. I discussed it with my friends, but they couldn't offer much help, and I didn't receive professional assistance until I was 15. This delay was partly due to issues at home, as one of my parents also struggled with mental health.

    Eventually, social workers became involved, which facilitated my entry into both private and public mental health systems. I had a worker who was attentive to my needs and underwent Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) around age 15. From 16 to 18, I had several hospital admissions, and I particularly connected with a person when I was 15 who later died by suicide. I've come a long way over the past 12 years, but I still regularly attend therapy sessions, typically every two weeks to a month. This journey has made me realize the importance of addressing mental health issues in young people, as their feelings are often dismissed due to age-related stereotypes.

  • The first two artworks are the first part part of my series of 24. It's about the feelings I had after graduating in 2021. I felt like I didn't know where I belonged, as half of my friends were in customer service and the other half were pursuing studio jobs in animation or freelancing. I also struggled to understand where my creative energy went in university. Additionally, I was dealing with Repetitive Strain Injury (RSI), which was particularly frustrating. RSI affected both my wrists and elbows, and I even started using my left hand, which caused more strain. It made me feel like I had to reevaluate my life choices because I couldn't pursue art as vigorously as I wanted to. I realised that even seemingly small things like typing were causing issues.

    The left and middle ones on the bottom row are from an experimental film I worked on. It's a collage of clips that represent the mundane aspects of everyday life, especially when dealing with grief. Losing someone close at the age of 25 made me realize that I was entering my mid-20s, and they didn't get the chance to do the same.

    The final piece on the bottom right is from a project called "Meowtch." I collaborated with my friend Michelle Chen on her PhD study, where we made a game about a depressed cat navigating life. The cat faces challenges like a terrible office job and a father who struggles to communicate and dismisses their feelings.

  • I've never thought about it explicitly, but my work is highly emotive. Many people mention feeling a connection to the emotions portrayed in my pieces, even when they're joyous muments. When I create animations or games, I consider the target audience and what I want them to take away. For example, with a game about depression, we aimed to convey the experience of a young person dealing with life's challenges. My paintings often feel like I'm sharing a part of myself that's difficult to put into words. I hope that people who view my work can empathise with me, feel seen, and understand that they're not alone in their experiences.

tash

She / Her
25 - 30 years old

  • I'm studying Bachelor of Design and I'm an advocate for children and young people. My favourite way to advocate is through art because there's a lot of nuances and symbolism. With art, you can be vulnerable in your art without it being really explicit in a lot of ways. It's open to interpretation.

  • We don't really see a lot of talk around mental health, and when it is, it tends to be specifically around anxiety and depression, which is not bad, but it also doesn't always resonate with my experience, where I have a lot of trauma and PTSD symptoms. I want to be able to show those experiences through my art alongside other artists with lived experiences.

  • I come from a background of family violence. I experienced a lot of trauma, and it wasn't until I got into my early-mid teens that I started experiencing the mental health related to that because I got to a place where there was some stability. I ended up being severely depressed from about 13 to 16. I also experienced severe anxiety, specifically social anxiety, where I couldn't be in spaces with other people I didn't know. I was experiencing symptoms of PTSD as a result of that, including emotional flashbacks and survival coping mechanisms that weren't really working anymore. I've spent a long time trying to work on my mental health. I've gotten to a point now where I can still experience anxiety and symptoms of PTSD, but they're now very manageable, and I can recognise when I get to a point where those things may impact me.

  • The first one is about “Lived Experience” - how one experience affects all the others, like how the water flows from the top circle downwards. Trauma can constantly causes barriers in your life, and sometimes it can give you positive elements.

    “Bunk Bed” is specifically about childhood trauma, and it's kind of like flipping a coin; one side is really dark, and the other side is really childhood reminiscent and peaceful.

    “Growing Up in Melbourne” is about having experiences with mental health and trauma in the community. The water isn't able to get through because of the door, which is about violence towards children in homes. The candles are kind of like giving a memory to my brothers who I lost to mental health.

    The last one is “Amplify” and is specifically about family violence, which is represented by the speakers. Each little window represents something, like the river reflects intersectional issues, and a lighthouse symbolising hope, and an old 1960s toy representing intergenerational violence.

  • My artwork is about my lived and living experiences, but I also hope it helps other people being able to reflect on their experiences or the way we talk about mental health for children and young people. I want people to feel a sense of connection with the artwork around their own experiences, whether that is personal experiences or experiences of other people in their lives.

zoe

She / Her
25 - 30 years old

  • I find this question challenging. I never know where to start or what people want to know about me. My life may not seem very interesting compared to others my age, but I've done some amazing things. I did gymnastics and acrobatics when I was younger, and I coached too. It was a huge part of my life. Unfortunately, I had to stop due to illness, which was tough. Now, I'm into wheelchair dancing, which I love. I've also done adventurous activities like skydiving and bridge climbing. These days, I find joy in small muments, like trying new cafes or walking my dog.

  • My art offers insights into the thoughts and experiences I've had while dealing with acute and chronic suicidal feelings. It's not just about my personal journey, but I aimed to make it relatable to others. While I could have written it without my own experiences, I also drew from stories I've read and conversations I've had with people. The goal was to create a narrative that resonated with many, not just one person.

  • I first experienced depression and anxiety at a young age, mainly due to body-related comments from others. I stopped eating meals at school due to criticism. During high school, head injuries caused further issues, but no one took them seriously. I started feeling suicidal but didn't get the support I needed. I went on an overseas exchange trip, and coming back was tough due to a dysfunctional family. I eventually moved out with my mum, my relationship with my dad deteriorated, and I decided to cut ties.

    My life became filled with medical appointments. My mental health worsened, leading to multiple admissions. My journey continued with changing therapists, new methods of self-harm, and a suicide attempt. My dad's health declined and he eventually passed away. Afterward, we moved back into our family home, which was unsafe for my mobility. Rejected by NDIS, I attempted suicide again. I underwent testing and was diagnosed with post-concussion syndrome. My cognitive and physical health deteriorated. I eventually got on NDIS and hired support workers. My mental health fluctuated, leading to more admissions. My journey continued with medication changes, discrimination regarding my wheelchair use, more admissions, and more suicide attempts.

    Overall, I’ve learned the importance of acknowledgment and validation in my journey. I don’t need someone to fix me, but I need someone to just listen.

  • In "Crisis of a Mundane Task," I described the challenge of eating yogurt with my medication when I wasn't hungry, knowing that skipping a dose could affect my wellbeing. I chose to include this in the art gallery because it's something everyone can relate to - feeling overwhelmed and losing control is a common experience, even if someone hasn't dealt with suicidal ideation.

    In "How it Feels," I aimed to provide an understanding of what suicidal ideation is really like, emphasising that it's not just a passing thought but a constant presence that can affect daily life, including work and school. People often hide these thoughts well, which is why others might not see the signs until it's too late.

    In "Too Taboo," I explored my frustration with a psychologist who didn't want to hear about my thoughts of wanting to die. This experience made me feel isolated, as if I had no one to turn to for help or advice. I eventually stopped seeing that psychologist and haven't seen one since, as I now value acknowledgment and validation more than strategies. If therapists can't offer that, therapy might not be the right path for me.

    You can read more about my experiences and artworks in my two books, Suicidally Me, and Life’s Labyrinth.

  • I want people experiencing suicidal ideation to feel like they're not alone, to relate to the words, and understand that these thoughts are normal when feeling suicidal. I hope it empowers them to speak up and seek help. I also want support people and mental health professionals to feel empathy and gain a better understanding of suicidal ideation. I hope they feel like they've learned something and can better assist people they're supporting.