Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Depression.



"She was seeking herself and finding herself in just such sweet, half-darkness which met her moods. But the voices were not soothing that came to her from the darkness and the sky above and the stars. They jeered and sounded mournful notes without promise, devoid even of hope."  -Kate Chopin





There are entire conversations that play through my head that are never meant to happen or heard.  I realize if someone could read my thoughts, I mean someone who loved me, the darkness that follows me would consume them too.  I should say the darkness that sometimes follows me, because I understand my thought process is flawed and twisted at times, but not all the time...


I told Sam last night that I was walking down the driveway, past these construction buckets full of cold water, (water collected from the leaky hose that we run from our house down to fill the horses' trough), and just for a moment, I thought of myself drowned in one of them.  My head was immersed and I breathed the water into my lungs until I was dead.  I told him that that idea just popped into my head, and then I just kept walking down the driveway and went about my day as usual.  He said, "That's awful," and today I noticed the buckets were tipped over and emptied of water.


Do all depressed people come to a moment in life when they realize they are living for everyone around them?  Depression might just be a heightened sense of the reality of life.  We are truly here to serve others.  We play roles in other peoples' lives, make sure they are happy, or get what they want, and that is life.  Understanding that doesn't mean we don't love those people or want to make them happy, it just means we understand that we don't have to be "happy."  When alone, it's okay that we know we are already gone.  We can know the heart and soul already took flight, and it's just a shell left for everyone else.

We can still make other people very happy that way.  I know my roles and what I need to do:  Mom - Love your children and make them feel loved.  Wife - Love your husband and make him feel loved.  Teacher - Care for your students and move them forward in their lives.  Daughter - Make the parents feel like they succeeded in loving you.  What else do we really need to do?  It doesn't matter what else we do.

I was walking today and this sadness and emptiness came over me and I could feel something drain from my body and slink away.  I realized I had blown my brains out a long time ago.  I broke who I am, and I am not Joanna anymore.  Joanna, was just a person unaware of reality anyway.  Walking along, as understanding of my situation was clear, Joanna left me completely, flowing with the last bit of color and sparkle into the drainage ditch and sinking and dispersing into the soil that was laden with bits of trash, dead leaves, and dirty gloom that winter left behind and summer hadn't had time to lift away.  I kept moving forward, with no thoughts anymore, except, "This is what you do, you keep moving.  Do what you need to do."  I just thought about that over and over again.  


Before depression creeps in, people can live lives oblivious to any of these things.  I tried to tell my doctor that I know I am broken, and I will never be happy.  When you break your soul it's irrevocable.   


Silly girl, glue can't hold it back together.  
The crack is still there!  
I can see it so clearly, and so can you!  

And I can...  I can feel it.  I can trace it with my mind's finger, and the edges are sharp.  I suck the blood from the wound.  


If people look deeply enough, and carefully enough, into your eyes, they can see the crack too.  Children can't see it. We don't want them to ever see it.   If someone doesn't want to see it, they don't have to see it.  Most people don't want to see it.  It's too sad to know.  If you know, then everything becomes harder.  It hurts too much. The jagged chasm, behind the green and blue of my eyes, makes them look away and say with some concern, "Are you okay?  What's wrong?"


"Nothing," is enough to smooth the furrowed brow.  


"Ah, thank goodness she's okay."


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