My bouts with depression are fewer and farther between these days, and for that I am grateful. But there are still moments, like tonight, when it tries to consume me. It’s in these moments that the doubts, fears, and anxieties that depression feeds are all too abundant. It’s in these moments that I am all too aware of what depression is…
depression is living with the reality that there will be times when the thoughts I wrote to myself in brighter moments are more valuable to me that the tauntings currently haunting my mind.
depression is being aware that long before it drives you to the point being completely willing to die, it steals away the will to live.
depression is the burden of having to question each thought as it emerges through a chemical bath of distortions, then weighing it against realities that seem even more abstract and distant at the moment.
depression is reminding myself against all odds that these feelings are only here for a time – an hour, a day, a week. They will pass. They will likely return someday, but between now and then there will once again be clarity and light.
depression is a exercise of breathing in a dense dark fog, letting it wrestle with the Spirit that holds my soul, and then slowly exhaling a divine light.
I am not depression.
It is merely a thing that sometimes overwhelms me; like a allergy when the red cedar blows in from the west or a common cold that takes over our ears and noses for no apparent reason. It happens for a moment. Then it passes. We always have to focus on the fact that it passes. Sometimes we write it. Sometimes we paint it. Sometimes we sing it. Sometimes we cry it out at the top of our lungs and sometimes we whisper it in hushed secrets to no one. Tonight, I burned it in wood.
And now I’ll try again to sleep.