Depression: a series (Part 1)
It would be great if you could listen to the song, "Atlas: Touch" by Sleeping At Last while you read the first part. I wrote this section whilst listening to this song, I have the lyrics below for your perusal too, if you would so like). It's not necessary, just so you can know where my head was during the making of this passage. The second part of this series will be coming shortly, and I'm hoping for it to be less grim. And, perhaps... Maybe a third. Who knows.
Lyrics to the song:
When will I feel this,
As vivid as it truly is?
Fall in love in a single touch,
And fall apart when it hurts too much.
Can we skip past near-death cliches?
Where my heart restart as my life replays.
All I want is to flip a switch,
Before something breaks that cannot be fixed.
I know, I know, the siren sounds
Just before the walls come down.
Pain is a well-intentioned weatherman,
Predicting God as best he can.
But, God, I want to feel again.
Rain or shine, I don't feel a thing.
Just some information upon my skin.
I miss the subtle aches,
When the weather changed.
The barometric pressure we always blamed.
All I want is to flip a switch,
Before something breaks that cannot be fixed.
Invisible machinery,
These moving parts inside of me.
Well they've been shutting down for quite some time,
Leaving only rust behind.
Well I know, I know, the siren sounds
Just before the walls come down.
Pain is a well-intentioned weatherman,
Predicting God as best he can.
But, God, I want to feel again.
Down my arms,
A thousand satellites
Suddenly discover signs of life.
//
Part 1:
"You have depression."
No day is the same.
Today, I'm cold. Like my soul is on ice. Like I have never known warmth. The sun doesn't touch me, doesn't pierce the skin like it used to. I barely remember that feeling, almost as if I made it up. Ice can burn too, I have discovered.
Some days, however, I feel a wrenching pain in my chest, like someone has torn into it and is just squeezing, tugging, pulling. Like someone is wringing me out to dry. Strangling the life out of me. Leaves me breathless.
Some days, I just feel so tired, so overwhelmed. I can't eat, or sleep, or get up. Nothing seems right, or worthy, or good. Nothing is nice enough to inspire me to leave my bed.
Some days, I can't bear the silence. I listen to the same song on repeat, because I can't get over it. Not until I know every lyric, every pause, every breath, every note. Not until I hate it.
Some days, I can't bear a single sound. Everything sounds so excruciating, or loud, or aggressive. Noises can be so scary. People's eyes scare me. The world scares me. I scare myself.
Some days, I'm so angry. At everyone and everything. Including myself. Mostly myself. I throw things, I scream and shout, to myself. Sometimes at my Mother and Father. I'm sorry, Mum and Dad. It's not me doing those things. I'm a terrible person sometimes. Or it makes me a terrible person sometimes. I don't really know if that's really me in those moments. I feel like I'm going to explode anger on everyone. Like a dark storm cloud, brewing away, ready to burst open with rain.
Some days, I am so so sad. Everything is miserable. It feels like it's raining inside my head, gloomy and grey and never ending sorrow. Nothing is good, nothing is okay. Life doesn't seem worthwhile. I will cry until my eyes are swollen shut. Until I collapse into exhaustion, my body sore from the shakes of crying. My eyes will be stained red for days.
Some days, I am so so happy. All the feelings seem like a different person in a different time. Not me, not this girl, who feels everything and nothing all at once. The girl who smiles as she serves you, remembers your kids names or your latest trip away, wishes you a pleasant day at work. The girl who makes eye contact with people in public, even though some days she can't. Who has left the house because she wanted to, when some days she can't. Who smiles and laughs, even though some days she can't. Who feels invincible today; like she has finally won. How can two such different people exist in the same body at once?
And then there are some days, where I feel absolutely nothing. And they are the worst days by far. Like you have sprung an emotional leak, and have run dry. You're not happy, or sad, or angry, or cold, or overly sensitive, or alone, or tired. You're nothing. And you feel like it too. You feel so pointless, empty, limited. You have nothing to contribute; nothing to say, or offer. You don't know what to do with yourself, your empty shell of a human being.
And suddenly you find yourself wishing for the days where you feel something, anything. It doesn't even have to be good. Pain would be better than this never ending numbness, you think. You try to write; to spark some emotion, to bring yourself back, to feel anything at all. Your hand hovers over the page, or the keys, for hours. You give up. So, you wait to feel something. And when it hits, whatever the emotion may be, it knocks you right off your feet. 0 to 100. Like you've been hit by a truckload of emotion all at once. You have been starved of feeling for so long, you gorge yourself on it. And the cycle begins again. It's exhausting.
I want to break the cycle. I want to feel just the joy, the happy. But I just can't. What part of me is broken? Is it my heart, my soul, my brain? Is it all malfunctioning? Why has this left me a shell of a human, where the insides are shattered and broken and beyond repair. Is there any hope for me?
I wait patiently for the happy days, and hope they will stay longer every time. Maybe even forever, some day.
//
Don't be afraid to entrust people with your heart. I used to be so scared of my mental illness and how people would react with my honesty. You feel vulnerable. But once you embrace what you go through, you empower yourself in a way that is so healing. Admitting our imperfections, and showing people how much we fight every day to just be here, that is inspiring for yourself and for everyone else. And who knows, you might inspire someone else to open up and fight another day alongside you in the process.
I find writing so helpful in dark times, where I can write at least. But, on the good days, I ask you to do this: enjoy your time in the sun, take care of yourself when it's not so bright. Protect yourself on the numb days. Healing takes time, patience and a whole lot of strength. We will all get there, piece by piece. Day by day. Just don't give in to that little voice that says it's never going to get better. Prove it wrong. Find the joy again. Find the sun, the warmth, the life.
I will write again, for myself and for hopefully others, who may be going through similar things. We can help each other, by being open and being vulnerable. And we can take care of one another, by being supportive and loving and embracing the growth. Be the soil that you and the people you love can bloom in.
