I was inspired by Momentum of Jo’s post on depression to share as well. We all have choices in life. We all share some burdens, some of us have more than others. I know that myself. Sometimes those burdens and grief feel overwhelmingly hard to carry and we long to unchain ourselves from their weights. I get it. I’ve been there. I know. I understand.
** Please be forewarned. This is a raw, emotional post. I have dealt with my sadness and I am not suicidal as I have spent a long time healing. I am not an expert, but simply a woman who has felt depressed before and has healed, but still remembers the experience of profound sadness. This post was written from the heart with the intentional hope to help others. Please, if you are feeling this way, get help. My intent is to bond with you, but not allow you to fall again into the abyss of depression. There is hope everywhere darlings. Just wait. You can’t forget that the world is richer because of you are here and that you are an important part of this life. If you are feeling suicidal or depressed, please call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255. You can reach the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741-741.
You are loved.
I taste the bitterness on your tongue, the words stuck in your throat, you know, the ones that you long to speak. I feel the body shuddering sobs that wrack your body into spasms as you choke back the tears that rush down your cheeks. I feel your nose running, the salty tears that slide into your mouth as you cry. I know how your nose needs blowing, how your eyes have become bloodshot from all the wiping and that the never ending box of tissues is diminishing, but the pile near you of used ones is increasing. I feel the depression and utter sadness that misunderstandings have left in its wake. Clothes disheveled, body perhaps not bathed, hair not washed and sticking up in places or mashed down on your head in a greasy mess. I hear the howling of your woundedness when you allow yourself to explode. I feel your fists clenched in frustration and I feel the physical release of the pent up hurt as you battle the soft pillows in order to not break anything of value. I see you do this all in silence when you are alone for fear that you do not want anyone to witness your defeatedness. I am there with you as you raise yourself from the crumpled mess on the floor, using the last bits of energy to go to the bathroom and take a good look at yourself in the mirror.
Disgusted by the tirade, exhausted by the menagerie of emotion, you take to your bed or couch, hoping that sleep will find you some respite. And I know that sometimes, sleep envelopes you and at others, it eludes you, making you restless and confused. Body and mind are at war these days, battling depression and you feel like you are the ping pong ball in flight.
I am there when you are on your knees begging for the Universe, your deity, the Divine, God, whomever you choose, to take you and take away this painful time in your life. I know the use of binging in comfort foods, alcohol or drugs to deaden the pain doesn’t help, even if you feel a respite of nothingness for awhile. The depression lurks to strike again when we are vulnerable. And it always strikes again until we heal.
I sense the deadened emotions, the feeling of nothingness which sometimes lulls us into feeling peace, but it is an illusion. The only way to get through the depression is to go through it, like a briar patch, allowing the wounds to open in order to heal. And it’s a bitch. I know it. I have been there – when you can’t see anything but trees in a forest, no path, no discernible way to even take a step forward if you wanted.
The human contact that you long for, the sense of being in the womb, safe from harm, loved without boundaries, hidden from view from all so that you can heal, I know that desire. Or the opposite which is being in a cave, hidden in the darkness, licking your wounds, allowing the voices in your head free reign to disillusion you from reality.
I have heard those critical voices that persecute you, wounding with words we well know from the past, those that wound deepest, showing us that we are unworthy. Repeating experiences in our minds perseverating, over and over, which deepen the wounds we carry in our hearts, minds and souls. It’s like watching a train wreck of our lives looping over and over until we cannot see any blessings, only darkness. There is no light at the end of the proverbial tunnel once we’ve arrived here. There is only darkness, depression hissing in the background, rabid thoughts running amok in our brains. Voices only carry caustic put-downs and we’ve forgotten who we are and why we came here.
How do we get out of this hell? How do we step out from the darkness and find the light when there’s not even a twinkling star to guide us when we have fallen so far down the well of depression? How do we find the energy to get up to nourish ourselves or even to do the basics for ourselves, never mind, for others for whom we are responsible? How do we stop the chatter in our heads? How do we find the energy to bathe our soiled selves and to get up from the crumpled heap of depression that we find ourselves in?
We have fallen dear friends, but even though we may feel this is hell, it is not. It may only be a step away from hell, but this is not the worst it can be. There are further levels of hell here on earth that we can fall to, depths that are unimaginable and yet here we sit on the precipice, ready to fall so that we do not have to endure any more.
That’s where the siren’s song of peace in taking our own lives begins to grow louder and we must try very hard not to give in to her devilish chant. We are not better off in taking our lives. Those in our lives are not better off with us gone. What footprint have we left if we are to succeed in this plan? Even though it takes courage to plan, it takes even more courage to change our plan to survive.
What’s the legacy you want to leave here on this earth? We become so enthralled and wrapped up in our depression, in that all encompassing lie that things would be better if we did die, that we forget we have a soul along with our physical body. Mind and body hurt so much that their pleas to release the chasm of pain drown out the soft, simple plea of the soul to heal. It is a choice dear ones. Stop and listen to your soul. Let her song be heard. Even when the mind and body drown out the soul’s loving, hope-filled song, it can still be heard by those who wish for healing.
Do you wish for healing?
If you are still reading, then I wish for healing for you, plain and simple – a healing of mind, body and soul. You can heal as I have. I believe in you.