It happened again.

It had been such a long time that it was this bad that it really took the feet right out from underneath me.

I don’t how else to explain it but this boiling over of emotion. Your skin feels as though it is literally stretching to contain it. You want to hurt yourself. You just have this sudden reflex feeling that the only way you’ll ever feel normal again, the only way you’ll ever have a release, is to cut open your body; ripping open your flesh and letting the inside tear out and be exposed.

The tears come fast and hot, like some kettle that’s been on the boil for far to long. Your face twists and turns as you start to choke on our own warm breath leaving you gasping for fresh air.

It doesn’t matter what you’ve done in your life – how many awards you may have won, what beautiful moments you’ve lived through or helped to create – the only thing that matters now is how much hatred and disappointment you have for yourself. You can only see what you are not.

You should be stronger. You should be faster. You should be smarter. How are you supposed to keep living in this body?

Your anger starts to give way to frustration and a deep sadness that feels as though you are weeping for all the pain and anguish in the universe. As though you are feeling for yourself every child that has ever been lost, every family that has had a loved one taken from them, each innocent human being taken astray, even each animal that has felt confusion to find that their home is no longer there or their child has been taken. You feel it all.

You feel it all and you know you are helpless.

This is depression.

This is my depression. And although it seems I hold the power to write it down, I choke on the words and stumble on thought of sharing this with those closest to me.  A big part of this is because I don’t have a reason. I don’t have a logical thought behind why this has happened. This means that there really isn’t anything to be discussed. No comfort that be given to help this pass.

 

Personally, the best way for me to move past this is to push forward. I’m not sure I could do this without the help of my fiancé though. He has learned the delicate balancing act and dance of how to ask questions and comfort me while at the same time giving me space and letting us sit in silence when I have no words to say.

If I was to insist, I’m sure that he would let me wallow and curl up away from the world but he knows that is not really what I want nor what I need. Instead, I receive gentle encouragement to follow through my plans and see how things go. As the day passes, I do feel better. I am still not built back up to the person I was but the panic starts to dull and a sleepy haze starts to set in.

This is a pattern I am now well-rehearsed in. My brain and body that was earlier over come with emotion now slowly starts to shut down and I welcome it. I’m more than ready to let the world drift away from me as my eye lids become heavy and the weight of the blanket tucks me in.

 

Tomorrow is a new day.