Depression and Pyrography

After Cano passed away, the sadness felt impossible to escape. Anyone who has lost a beloved pet understands that they are more than animals—they are family, companions, and part of our daily lives. Losing Cano left an emptiness that followed me everywhere.

As my grief grew, so did my depression.

I continued attending therapy, and during one of my sessions, my therapist encouraged me to find a healthy outlet—something that could help me focus my mind and release some of the emotions I was carrying. At the time, I had no idea what that activity would be.

Then one day, while watching videos on YouTube, I discovered pyrography.

I watched people creating artwork by burning images and designs into wood. There was something calming about the process. The careful movements, the focus, the patience—it caught my attention in a way I did not expect.

The more I watched, the more curious I became.

Eventually, I purchased my first wood-burning tool and decided to try it for myself.

I knew nothing about pyrography.

My lines were uneven. My technique was far from perfect. I made mistakes. But none of that mattered.

What mattered was what happened while I was creating. As I worked on my very first project—a small wooden box—I found myself crying. The more I burned, the more I cried. The more I cried, the more I healed.

For the first time in a long while, my mind was focused on something other than grief. The pain was still there, but for a few minutes at a time, my attention shifted from sadness to creation.

Those moments became incredibly important.

What began as a simple project slowly became a source of comfort. Over time, pyrography gave me a place to direct my thoughts, my emotions, and my grief. It did not cure my depression, but it gave me moments of relief when I needed them most.

Looking back, that small wooden box represented much more than my first pyrography project.

It was the first step on a path that would eventually lead to journals filled with reflections, countless hours of creative work, the writing of my book:

Depression and Pyrography 

A Way To Fool Your Brain

, and a desire to share my story with others who may be struggling. 

I did not begin this journey because I wanted to become an artist. I began because I was hurting. Sometimes healing does not begin with a grand plan. Sometimes it begins with a single project, a simple tool, and the courage to take one small step forward.

For me, that first step was pyrography.

And that is how it all began.