should i be bold enough to speak, in this moment? a reverent heart must surely be unbroken, with no regrets ... should i be ... lost in forgetfulness? with no regrets in my head, faithfully shed. - j. knapp
I've been feeling sad for awhile now. I can see it in my eyes when I look in the mirror.
It is a culmination of things: a homesickness, a mental exhaustion, an imbalance, a lack.
Wintry fears, queuing.
These old moods resurface, and I worry.
Will it become a depression?
I downplay my depressions because, in retrospect, they seem vague. Deep, sad, often ugly; but vague.
Once, as a child, I had a close call with drowning.
I remember the way it felt to be under the water, thrashing; looking up but seeing nothing.
Trace of panic, settling.
This is how my depressions begin.
I will grasp on to the smallest things - the little bit of paper that falls out of a book, something my kid drew; the way that plant looks on the windowsill, tendrils reaching hopefully toward the sun. It gets harder to think, to stir.
There have been periods of time I cannot leave my home, I am so deep in it.
Worse still is when the panic subsides, and I feel loss. A great loss of something significant to me; something I cannot place.
An inability to care.
And then, eventually - inexplicably -
As if I made it up. I will occasionally convince myself I did.
... Do you ever feel this way?
free from the worry, free from the dark that lives in me
free to embark on the passion you've favorably fashioned in me