I don’t remember when I started writing this. It’s been a while. But I’ve kept it, because I wanted to remind myself that my days of depression are fleeting. And that yours can be as well. Let me know if you can relate. I’m holding out a handful of hope for you.
The not-sleeping-thing should’ve been my first warning sign, but I ignored it. Then I lost my notebook. And I lost my words. And everything moved like molasses in my brain.
Now there is today and it won’t go away. “It” being this fullness on my chest–this want to sleep the day away–hide from whatever it is that has my heart pounding like it is–my heart so fast and my brain so slow.
I haven’t felt his way in a long time… But I’ve felt this way for years. Distraction is my best friend. Distraction in writing, in singing, in doing something other than looking inside. It’s a shame that creativity necessitates introspection. That’s just my luck. So, I go looking for distraction. She either writes or runs. Today she wants to run.
She’s fighting the instinct to curl up deep down inside herself and hide…. hide where the quiet is. And where the words are. The real words. Not the other words that are made up and saved up and played up.
But the real words don’t come easy. And they don’t write easy. And they don’t read easy. The real words bring release and reflection, but introspection isn’t always the best method of chasing it all away. Sometimes it’s best to hide from what’s inside until it quiets down, chased away by sunshine and vitamins and balance.
So where do I hide?
Distraction.
There are still days, and when those days come it feels like forever. I’m so glad that it never is forever. And I’m so glad that those days don’t come nearly as often anymore.
Hope.
Mandy,
I am reaching out for your handful of hope. I needed this today. Some days I struggle. Some days I know that same fight within myself. Some days I lose the battle. I am a mutual friend of distraction.
Many months ago I admired your courage from afar when you spoke on this subject. I wanted to comment then but I fell under the spell of fatigue, of wanting to pretend, of wanting what has taken place in my life to just go away.
For you see, someone I dearly love now struggles and heroically fights this horrific battle not just some days but every single day. It is exhausting for both of us. We send up wishes, dreams, prayers. That some day it will be different.
Thank-you for your renewed courage and your refreshing honesty. It helps more than you can ever know.
With love,
Bev
I’m sorry to read that this is so close to you — and so difficult. It’s not an easy hole to climb out of, Bev, and I’m thankful that in this moment of life there are more sunshiny days than dark ones… I don’t expect it to always be this way, as it hasn’t always been this way. But between my therapist and my doctor, I’ve got tools that are working for this season. And I don’t take it lightly. I’m thankful that I wake up excited about the day ahead of me. I’m supremely thankful because I also know what it feels like to want to do nothing but sleep it all off…
We are also thankful for our many blessings. A wonderful doctor, therapist, church family, friends and family, etc. God is in control and we place ourselves in His hands. It helps to know He forgives our doubts and worries and picks us up when we falter. We have had occasion to help others, and that is a true blessing. Each day truly is a new day. It has been somewhat interesting and sometimes disconcerting to realise there are still stigmas, misinformation, and fear from others to complicate the picture, but we find humor is always a good weapon!
Hope you are doing well, my precious girl!
I totally understand, Bev. And I can see the hope in your words, even despite the stigmas & misinfo & fear.
Thank you for sharing this with me.
Thank you for the reminder that bad days don’t last forever.
You’re welcome, Tay.
My bad days are some dark moments which cause me to recoil and keep to my self. It leaves me with emotions of frustation and hopelessness. The worst part is that my bad days are so well disguised that no one sees the problem. I act all fine and content.
Yep when those days come around I give a put on quiet a show.
I relate all too well, Kamrie. All too well.
The main thing I want to say after reading: I am thankful for our overlaps. And as you know, there are plenty. Some bigger than others. Whether hope is mentioned, the overlaps themselves have this poetic way of providing some.
<3
Then I hold out overlaps for you, CP.
Staying active and sunrise are my remedies, But what do you do between dark thirty and daylight? My only answer is to pray. Pray for my family, my friends, my church family etc.. Sometimes I’m sure God says ” Does she ever sleep?”
My answer was going to be “nap!”
But I guess if I can’t sleep then I just try not to pay much attention to my brain because usually what’s swirling around in there at that time isn’t the most reliable! haha But you probably already know that about me. Love you Mom. Thanks for praying. They’re being answered, you know.
Beautiful. Love this. You made me feel the pain and the hope.
Most of the time these days I wish I were a turtle, so I could just hide in my home and no one would bother me or think I was weird. And when I was ready, I could just pop my little turtle head back out.
Bless your heart. I hear ya, Becca…