A portion of my heart
Is made of nothing but scars
From those times it was broken
And I stitched it back together.
From friends leaving
To loves that were lost
They all left different tears
That I healed with a thread of love.
A love for myself
A belief that I was not wrong
It was them not me
And I will be ok.
Some days I win, and some days I just want to gag my mind. I don’t know how else to say it. I know it is the depression coming through in brilliant Technicolor evil. I just don’t understand how I can have a manageable day or two and then SLAM back into the corners of darkness, self-hate and doubt the next. And shouldn’t a yellow warning sign pop out of my ear or something to let me know it is coming?
There is PMS to signal the start of Mother Nature’s flow. There are warning signs and symptoms of a heart attack. Stoke victims can even see the early warning signs to tell them it is time to call 911. I knew two people who have seizure disorders and can feel them coming on. And it is the job of service animals to sense those changes coming on in the body from many illnesses so you can get help. Why not depression?
I had coffee with a friend yesterday and honestly had a laugh or two. We talked and shared stories for over 2 hours. I had some shopping to do and was pretty tired by the time I made it home, but had wonderful sweet treats to share with my family. My amazing daughter suggested pizza for dinner so no cooking and minimal clean up sounded great to me. Then as everyone went to bed and I was wired and tired … the demon peeked around the corner looking to see if it was time to strike. And apparently it was.
She was there last night and I was able to keep most of her hateful words quiet. Sitting in the dimmed light with my laptop it was a bit hard to argue the old – “You are ALONE again” story. But I could rationally tell her others were just asleep while the pain of activity had me a little restless still. No big deal. I finally slept a little and was ready to great the new day with hope and endless potential. She was barricading the door.
Pain woke me up at least a half a dozen times. And when I knew the clock had ticked too far into the day for me to just TRY and find a more comfortable way to sleep… she was there with her evil grin to lead me into the day.
“You are worthless. You can’t even work. These pains will never leave you. You will be on medications FOREVER. Your friends never respond to you because it is all pity friendships. Oh look… another friend gone from your friends list.” And on and on she screams.
I had a brief moment or two before my daughter left for work when I almost smiled. I thought maybe the demon is losing some strength… but she is strong today. That is why I sit in front of my keyboard now. I sometimes can write her out of my head and onto the screen. Each keystroke a blow to her power and command over me. Each negative thought emptied out of my head like a poison being extracted from a bite.
She is still here. More important is that I am still here too. I am going to put on some music (not that song “Happy” though… just so overplayed it is annoying now) find my cat and shut off the rest of the world and just BREATHE. With any hope, my calm with send her chaotic madness back into the shadows… at least for a while.
The puddles are gathering at the park and I felt I had to be there. I had to be there because I missed the past. I missed walking. And I missed seeing things growing and thriving in spite of adversity. Some one simply had to say that I could “still take walks” to give me the strength to get back to the trails. I may be slower on my journey around a much smaller section of the park. It is not the long path I used to walk two or three times a week. But back then it was easy to walk for an hour or more… it was only the beginning of where my life would change. Some good and some bad, but I still say I survived so many of the changes because I found that link in nature to a part of me that was more at peace.
It is amazing how a simple song bird can calm a chaotic mind. How the rustling of leaves can blow away fears lurking deep within. How the cool moisture of a random raindrop can refresh a haunted soul. Sunshine may warm the skin, but it is not here today and that is ok. We have to have rain to keep nature revolving through its life span, just as we have to have a balance of sadness and joy in our lives. Too much of any one thing can tilt the scales into reckless destruction.
I took the time to inhale a bit of healing. The steps may be harder to take as the days wear on, but each one screams, “I am still alive!” The flowers bloom and the river flows faster as I limp over the bridge. There is a bridge to the future somewhere ahead. I will find it and one way or another get across. Let the rain fall. Let the birds sing. Let life renew. I am at peace for the moment. I am still alive.