Painting Can Save Your Life

– or Why Everyone Should Create Something with Their Hands

I survived several mistreatments in a hospital before and after my son's birth—purely by sheer luck. I am writing about that time, my experience, and what helped me survive.

Creating something with your hands can be healing in a world that is constantly getting louder and faster. I have experienced it myself. Screens, keyboards, and touchpads surround us, yet our brains crave a more profound, tangible connection to the world. Painting – or any other form of creative work – can restore inner balance and, in some cases, even save lives. Any work with your hands can be an anchor to the time in the present.

I started painting in my teenage years, but after working long hours in different sales jobs later in life, I did not have the time and did not feel the need to paint. My life was also filled with renovating our house (back then, I still had a boyfriend) and bringing the vast garden to life.

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When I survived the mistreatment in the hospital before and after my son's birth, I had to go to a rehabilitation facility where I was helped to function somewhat in daily life again. After being exposed to extreme conditions for weeks in the intensive care unit, enduring pain beyond even the worst nightmares, I was deeply traumatized.

I had to learn to walk again, which was initially very difficult because my muscles had deteriorated from prolonged immobility. However, I did my best to engage in light exercise and physical therapy during rehabilitation. It took four months to find the right facility that would accept me—many refused because I was still too severely ill.

Silke Kristin Juelich: Casa in Italia, Casa in Toscana, Pumpkin, Toscana Landscape, Rough Sea (from left to right, from top to bottom)

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I had a stoma connected to my abdominal cavity through a plastic tube, and there was still a leakage from my small intestine. It’s important to understand that holes in the intestine do not simply close alone. But the doctors could do nothing more—my organs and peritoneum were so inflamed that any further surgical intervention would have caused more damage than healing. At one point, they closed my abdominal wall and hoped my body would somehow find a way to heal itself.

At the time of rehabilitation, I was not yet aware that I would later have to battle extreme pain. Due to the peritonitis, my organs and scar tissue in my lower abdomen fused into a single mass. The pain that would later confine me to bed for weeks at a time was not yet fully perceptible to me during that period.

The Healing Power of Creative Expression