Estimated reading time: 3 minutes, 36 seconds
My depression is a shapeshifter. One day it is as small as a firefly in the palm of a Bear. The next day it's the bear. These are the days I play dead until the bear leaves me alone. I call the bad days the dark days. They are the days that I have trained myself to prepare for. They are the days I dread. They come suddenly and without warning.
Someone said "Try lighting a candle"
When I see a candle, I see the flesh of a church. The flicker of a flame. Sparks of a memory, younger than noon. I am standing beside my best friend's open casket. It is the moment I learn that every person I ever let myself care about is someday going to die or betray me. Besides, I'm not afraid of the dark, perhaps that's part of the problem.
Someone said "I thought the problem was you couldn't get out of bed"
Anxiety holds me a hostage inside of my house, inside of my head.
Someone said "Where did anxiety come from?"
Anxiety is the cousin visiting from out of town that depression felt obligated to bring to the party. I am the party. Only I am at a party I don't want to be at.
Someone said "Why don't you try going to actual parties and hang out with friends?"
Sure, I make plans. But I don't want to go. I make plans because I know I should want to go. Sometimes I would've wanted to go. It's just not that much fun when you don't want to have fun.
You see, insomnia sweeps me up in his arms, dips me in the kitchen with the promising glow of the stove light. It has this romantic way of making the moon feel like perfect company. When I get in this cycle I just can't sleep.
Someone said "Try counting sheep"
But my mind can only count reasons to stay awake. So I go for a drive. But before I enter the car my stuttering kneecaps clank like silver spoons held in strong arms with lose wrists. They ring in my ears like clumsy church bells reminding me that I don't even remember why I came to the car to begin with. They remind me that I'm sleepwalking in an ocean full of happiness that I can not baptize myself in.
Someone says "Happy is a decision"
But my happy is as happy as a pin pricked egg. My happy is a high fever that will break. My happy is all but a fleeting moment.
Someone says "You are so good at making something out of nothing" then flat out asks me if I'm afraid of dying.
No! I tell him, I'm afraid of living! I thought I learned long ago how to turn the anger into lonely. The lonely into busy. They busy into money. The money into things I love and want to do. So when I say I've been super busy lately, sometimes it means I've been falling asleep watching the Weather channel on tv to avoid confronting the empty side of my bed. To avoid confronting life. To avoid being me. So busy I must stay.
My depression always drags me back to my bed. It drags me back until my bones are the forgotten fossils of a skeleton sunken city. My mouth a boneyard of teeth broken from biting down on themselves. The hollow auditorium of my chest swoons with echos of a heartbeat... but I am only a careless tourist here. I will never truly know where I have been. I will never truly see the sunshine for the clouds. But can I? What will make me see it? Who will I be with?
My mind moves at light speed, nonstop, it's exhausting to keep up.
They still don't understand.
Can't you see that neither can I?!
I sincerely hope that you can find meaning as it relates to your life in my message today.
I send thoughts of love and compassion to each one of you who happens to stumble across these heart felt words. Peace be with you all.
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