Summary

The author found solace and healing in writing poetry, which became a crucial tool for managing their mental health challenges, particularly during the isolating and stressful period of the COVID-19 pandemic.

Abstract

The author, a high school student in Jamaica, faced significant academic setbacks, including failing their exams, which were compounded by the onset of the pandemic. As the world grappled with the effects of COVID-19, the author's plans for university were put on hold, leading to a period of depression. Despite these challenges, they rediscovered their passion for poetry, using it as a form of therapeutic expression to process their emotions and experiences. This creative outlet not only helped them cope with their mental health struggles but also improved their writing skills and provided a sense of purpose during uncertain times. The author emphasizes the importance of seeking professional mental health care while acknowledging the cultural and logistical barriers in Jamaica, advocating for healthy self-expression as a vital component of mental wellness.

Opinions

The author believes that poetry has been instrumental in their mental health journey, offering a safe space to explore and express complex emotions.
They suggest that writing poetry can be a constructive alternative to destructive behaviors when dealing with negative emotions.
The author points out that while poetry has been a personal lifeline, it should not replace professional mental health support when accessible.
There is an opinion that Jamaican culture needs to prioritize mental health and encourage open expression of emotions to combat mental illness stigma.
The author observes that suppressing emotions without a proper outlet can exacerbate mental health issues.

Writing Poetry Saved My Mental Health

And it still continues to

I am pretty sure I am being redundant when I say that 2020 was a very hard year for the entirety of the human race. If you made it through 2020 and into 2021 with all your family members in good health, a roof over your head and the rest of your basic needs being fulfilled you were one of the blessed ones.

However, that doesn’t take away from the trauma and pain you suffered in the previous year that was almost one of pure isolation, anxiety and stress.

I started last year full of hope and promise, and I was ready to finish my sixth form course at my high school. I live in Jamaica where the high school starts at 7th grade and ends in 11th grade.

However, if you wanted to one could enrol in the 2-year sixth form program where you could do the equivalent of pre-college courses in the form of the Caribbean Advanced Proficiency exams.

So safe to say I was thoroughly finished with Highschool life especially considering I failed my exams for my first year of the program. So with it being my final year at the school, I was rearing to go and I was ready to redeem myself.

Doubly so since one of the subjects was Communication Studies; an advanced English course that I thought I would pass but failed miserably. Oddly enough it was this failure among the others that got me writing poetry in earnest.

I have always loved poetry and literature in general. I enjoyed the extensive wordplay, the tone and rhythm used to create a story or evoke feelings in such a few short lines. I started writing poetry in about the ninth grade.

I used my poetry as a form of journaling. Writing to encapsulate the intense feelings of my teenage years and early adulthood. I wasn’t consistent though, only finding the need to write when I was at the peak of my emotions.

It wasn’t until I failed CAPE did I rekindle my love for poetry. It was still a great outlet for my most trying days after getting my results. It wasn’t easy having my academic confidence blown to bits. No, I was no prodigy.

Frankly, I was at the bottom of my class but my course was competitive and my scores were always consistently good if not average. Poetry helped me reconcile my feelings on the matter and helped me push forward.

By the time February 2020 rolled around I was ready for round two and beyond but little did I know what exactly was waiting for me. When the pandemic hit Jamaica, the country immediately went into lockdown and like everybody else we didn’t know how long that would be. The months seem to slowly roll into each other and my poems took a back seat to me getting used to the new normal we faced.

It was hard not seeing my friends and my partner. It was hard trying to cram all the information for the year’s exam into my head, throughout only a couple of weeks on short notice.

It hurt so much when the results came in last August I had failed yet again and even worst than before. But it was crushing when I found out my study permit application had to be put on hold due to the Canadian borders closing and thus having to defer my university application.

It felt as if my worst fears were coming to fruition in staggering consecutive order and I fell into a depression that felt almost all-consuming. I hid it well of course. Hiding my true emotions wasn’t very hard for me and feeling emotional pain was nothing new, but this was different.

It felt as if a heavy chain had been placed on my chest. I confided in my partner and close friends of course and theynunderstood and were encouraging but sadly that didn’t help.

There were some days I didn’t even leave my bed but I knew I couldn’t continue as I was so switching my focus was my tactic. I started looking for a job to tide me over until it was time to leave for university in September of 2021.

I ended up working at a veterinary clinic which was a dream come true yet surprisingly enough it served to push me deeper into my depression. With so much happening and nowhere safe to turn to, it didn’t take long before I started writing again. But this time it stuck and held firm. I was able to express my deepest feelings and slowly but surely the chain started to loosen. I felt myself come alive again.

It was a joy to just write and see where the words took me. To use my anguish and turn it into something beautiful. Through this, my skill as a writer also improved. Motivated and renewed I started delving into those WIPs that were so long forgotten and gave them new life.

Now all of this to say, do not forgo the option of seeking the assistance of a licensed mental health professional to only write poetry. Many only need to make that first step to end their suffering but for fear of stigma, ridicule and being misunderstood do we close ourselves off from it. So please if you can receive the mental aid you need and it is open to you logistically and/or financially please go and recieve it. I am currently not in the position to do so.

Mental Health is not as readily prioritized in Jamaica and though we as a people are making steps forward in that area, we still have a long way to go. Healthy self-expression is one of the main points of improvement that the Jamaican culture towards mental illness needs to focus on. The ability to express and release the emotions that are often connected to traumatic events and situations help to negate the effects of mental illness. It also, in my humble observation may help to stave off the manifestation of some mental issues. Suffering in silence with no real outlet to liberate this pain allows the mind to become a breeding ground for the worst type of thoughts.

Conclusion

Poetry has given me a way to unearth the deepest parts of my depression and also provided a way to make it feel approachable and even safe. Poetry and writing, in general, has helped me with being comfortable with expressing my negative emotions through avenues that are not destructive or self-deprecating. When I am at my lowest and everything feels hopeless, it helps to know that I can put my pen to paper and give myself a brief but blissful reprieve from my own demons.