Monday, January 12, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Today's topic...Rain
"Into every life a little rain must fall" is a quote my Mother used frequently when we were younger. Of course the statement was meant to be taken figuratively not literally.
Today I am taking it literally. Rain falls. Outside my window right now the rain is coming down in buckets. Where snow gently tapped at my window a few weeks ago hard rain now pounds.
What the weather is doing outside mirrors what I feel on the inside. When I do let my emotions run freely the resulting embarrassment convinces me that I must work harder to keep the fence around them. Panic attacks, fear and anxiety overwhelm me. Sometimes it feels like I have a 300 pound rock sitting on my chest, I can barely breathe and I definitely cannot relax. The only outlet is tears. Lots of tears. Tears I cannot control.
Thus I prefer to stay hidden in my bedroom, nobody in here cares what I look like, how I behave, what I'm thinking or how I'm feeling. I can't let anyone down in here, be a source of shame or a burden to anyone. Here I am safe. Here I can be quiet. Here my mind can race without interruption.
Depression is a big, black hole. Every now and again the sun shines in through the cracks of the rocks that line the walls of the hole but for the most part it is a dark place with little life, little acceptance and no joy.
I don't want people I love to come down in this hole with me. I want to know that they will be there when I am able to find my own way out. It's hard, I think, for my family to understand this. How can this be explained with any sense of logic attached to it? The answer is that it can't. This is not logical, I know that. It is what it is.
I
"Into every life a little rain must fall" is a quote my Mother used frequently when we were younger. Of course the statement was meant to be taken figuratively not literally.
Today I am taking it literally. Rain falls. Outside my window right now the rain is coming down in buckets. Where snow gently tapped at my window a few weeks ago hard rain now pounds.
What the weather is doing outside mirrors what I feel on the inside. When I do let my emotions run freely the resulting embarrassment convinces me that I must work harder to keep the fence around them. Panic attacks, fear and anxiety overwhelm me. Sometimes it feels like I have a 300 pound rock sitting on my chest, I can barely breathe and I definitely cannot relax. The only outlet is tears. Lots of tears. Tears I cannot control.
Thus I prefer to stay hidden in my bedroom, nobody in here cares what I look like, how I behave, what I'm thinking or how I'm feeling. I can't let anyone down in here, be a source of shame or a burden to anyone. Here I am safe. Here I can be quiet. Here my mind can race without interruption.
Depression is a big, black hole. Every now and again the sun shines in through the cracks of the rocks that line the walls of the hole but for the most part it is a dark place with little life, little acceptance and no joy.
I don't want people I love to come down in this hole with me. I want to know that they will be there when I am able to find my own way out. It's hard, I think, for my family to understand this. How can this be explained with any sense of logic attached to it? The answer is that it can't. This is not logical, I know that. It is what it is.
I
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