Discussing mental illness has become more socially acceptable, in recent years.
With awareness comes new understandings, conversations and abilities to name it.
But because no one truly knows what someone else is going thru at any given time,
Until it is shared,
Rarely do people recognize it in others-
And it is present-in
Friends,
Co-Workers,
Loved Ones.
People now are able to pinpoint that uncomfortable feeling called "anxiety"
"I'm feeling anxious today"
"Oh, I can't do that...
THAT gives me anxiety"
It all can be so debilitating.
And who has time for that?
Rather than deal with the core of it,
People have gotten real crafty in acquiring topical balms.
There's a remedy for that-
People smoke weed-
Sip CBD cocktails
Get prescribed Xanax
Yoga
Triathlons/Marathons/Ironmans
Pottery
Retreats
Chanting
Meditation
...
But what happens when the fixes stop working,
and a tolerance has developed--
It's all still there.
What it looks like changes.
Depression is ever present.
People have an image of someone with depression
burying their head,
under their covers,
home,
with bags under their eyes
-in the dark.
But the truth is
Real people,
Everyday people experience it.
They are people like you,
And people like me.
Let's talk about Depression-
For me it is a weight,
A drain of energy,
A lack of drive,
reduction in desire
annihilation of dreams,
a yearning for stillness,
and a race to silence the noise-
Sometimes things churn in slow in motion,
Or my heart rate quickens
before a hammer drops me into-
Just a sinking quite calm of blacks, blues, & stills.
And all this can all happen in matter of moments-
As I stand on a corner,
waiting for the light to change,
before stepping off the curb,
into a cross walk,
and on about my day.
The thing about depression is it can take many forms.
it moves, it's tricky, it masks itself-
a basis for addiction,
a foundation for frustrations,
a whole to fill with food.
And we all just expect to keep on working,
to manage,
to push thru,
and never fully take the time for self introspection,
so we carry on.
Sometimes I feel myself getting slightly annoyed,
then there in the shadows,
a familiar faceless foe,
a cunning magician dancing
beginning to distract me,
or luring me into it's hold.
I become reactionary to minor annoyances
that quite often most days are easily overlooked.
But I have been training this challenger of mine.
Depression is a muscle,
And I am a champion.
I show up to work,
I go out to parties,
I 've gotten good at pretending.
Depression is now a part of me.
I often find myself swimming in it,
Mostly now I oscillate between a quiet hum, and a spiking peak,
where I whole up at home with a puzzle, a good book, and my Harper.
I try to write,
Yet rarely something I talk about.
They may say, reach out,
talk to someone,
call a friend...
but I am someone on a good day whose phone is never on.
Nor do I indulge in faceless Social Media foder.
Nor do I care to bother friends.
They don't want to hear it.
I do discuss it with my therapist,
and my partner can sense it creeping in.
He is kind.
In depression,
I laugh,
I eat,
I love,
I go the garden.
But the truth is,
Depression is my acquaintance.
My oldest one,
It lives inside of me,
and I in it.
A part of me.
I carry it in my orbit,
Sometimes it hangs on me like a worn out sweater.
And my depression smock is cozy.
It's always with me,
Softly simply tied around my waste,
Or tucked inside my bag,
Or tossed on the passenger seat
Crumpled up beside me, sleeping as I drive.
On a good day it rests quietly in a corner,
Merely a dull pulsing, that I think resides with my next door neighbor.
But I know it lives here.
And-
I know it will pass.
With kindness,
With acknowledgement,
With understanding.
Not from an external source.
Not a phone call,
Or a drug...
Maybe a hug from my dog.
That sometime helps.
Mostly time.
And breathing,
Every Day-
Every Breath.
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