There were times during my life in which I was not thankful for much of anything, especially being alive. Waking up in the morning was a disappointment. Each day was like a landscape painted in monotonous grey. Some of this was due to my circumstances and some to a legacy of depression left to me by my father. They were never depressions of great width and depth like my baby sister experienced; nevertheless, they made me less than thankful for being alive.
I still experience depression occasionally, and although it doesn't feel like it at the time, I know it will pass. The real problem is how it affects the people I love. To cope with a few days of depression, I shift into neutral. My behavior goes flat. I don't talk much. I tend not to look at people. My heart is just not in being alive. My significant other wants to fix it, since that's how most men approach problems: "Tell me what's wrong, and I'll fix it." First, nothing is wrong except the chemicals in my brain. Second, it is temporary. Third, it is no one's problem to fix except my own. It drives him crazy, and I hate that for him. He is a good man and he doesn't like to see me unhappy. I assure him I am not unhappy. I am just not anything. He is visibly relieved when the gloom passes.
One of the worst things about my depression is that I can't write. I sit down at the computer and stare at a blank screen. My mind is even blanker than the screen. During my "normal" times, I often don't write because I am so busy being alive that I don't have time to write about it. When a few dark days descend on me, my mind feels dry and hollow. Where I usually see poems, I see nothing, as though my mind has gone blind. It's a lousy feeling.
So what I am most thankful for at this time in my life is the brevity of my depression episodes. They are not pleasant, but they are short-lived. If they weren't, if I did not know they would pass in a day or two, I'm not sure I could endure them. My life is too good to spend it looking for a way out.
I still experience depression occasionally, and although it doesn't feel like it at the time, I know it will pass. The real problem is how it affects the people I love. To cope with a few days of depression, I shift into neutral. My behavior goes flat. I don't talk much. I tend not to look at people. My heart is just not in being alive. My significant other wants to fix it, since that's how most men approach problems: "Tell me what's wrong, and I'll fix it." First, nothing is wrong except the chemicals in my brain. Second, it is temporary. Third, it is no one's problem to fix except my own. It drives him crazy, and I hate that for him. He is a good man and he doesn't like to see me unhappy. I assure him I am not unhappy. I am just not anything. He is visibly relieved when the gloom passes.
One of the worst things about my depression is that I can't write. I sit down at the computer and stare at a blank screen. My mind is even blanker than the screen. During my "normal" times, I often don't write because I am so busy being alive that I don't have time to write about it. When a few dark days descend on me, my mind feels dry and hollow. Where I usually see poems, I see nothing, as though my mind has gone blind. It's a lousy feeling.
So what I am most thankful for at this time in my life is the brevity of my depression episodes. They are not pleasant, but they are short-lived. If they weren't, if I did not know they would pass in a day or two, I'm not sure I could endure them. My life is too good to spend it looking for a way out.
No comments:
Post a Comment