The day has dawned bright, sun shining through sheers on the east bedroom window. At first flutter of your eyelid when sleep is being stepped on by morning, needing no coaxing, I am ready. I was ready as you slept and little known to you I was in charge then also. I watch as your eyes slowly try to focus on the sunlight. At first recognition I place a curtain between you and the sunshine; a curtain so dark and thick that only sheer delight can penetrate it. You have no delight; only despair. What has begun as a bright and sunny day for you, I have quickly transformed into a dreary hopeless time that you are forced to endure.
Knowing you must tend to your job and your day, you begrudgingly drag yourself over the bed's edge to place your unwilling feet on the carpet covering the room you don't want to leave. Five minutes pass as your thoughts meander about trying to figure out why you feel this way. Eventually you stand. It takes another five minutes for you to decide on your next move. You can't make a decision about whether to shower, get dressed without showering, or crawl back into bed, your first order of choice being the latter. All the while I hold your hand; urge you to do what it is you want most to do. I hold tight so there is no possibility you can ignore me.
You have somehow managed the decision to get dressed without taking a shower, pick up the clothes you wore yesterday and shuffle into them. They smell but I remind you that it doesn't matter; they will do just fine.
In the kitchen the choice between tea and coffee is so overwhelming you think perhaps you won't bother with either.........but you want a hot drink. You make coffee. You make tea. You pour coffee. You pour tea. You drink neither because you can't decide which it is you want. I ensure your indecision, making sure I remain in control.
You are expected at work today; you have many people counting on you. To get your lunch ready seems like a daunting task so you don't bother with any. You may have to go out for some fast comfort food for lunch. Knowing what is best for you I insist you do exactly that. Making lunch is too much bother and takes too much energy. You will do nicely at Wendy's or McDonalds.
It comes to mind during your lunch thoughts, not only have you not showered, you haven't even washed your face or brushed your teeth. I am quick to remind you it is immaterial and won't matter a hair if you don't bother with that today. There is always tomorrow for such tasks (never do today what you can put off until tomorrow, right?).......Good; glad we got that figured out.
Glen is coming downstairs. He reaches out to give you a hug but I urge you to back away. Why is he trying to interfere with our relationship anyway? You back away and look up into eyes that reflect the pain of estrangement. Glen doesn't understand what is happening and I don't encourage you to try explaining it to him in fact I like it better that he feels completely left out. Taking your hand we turn and walk away from him.
It will soon be time to be on your way to work. Work........it takes your attention away from me. I try to keep you engaged but when you get busy there are periods of time during which I lose control. It would be better if you stayed home today. I tell you that. Your only argument; "I have to go to work. I have already missed too much." Encouraged you have given me the opportunity to interject I gently remind you how tired you are and need to rest. It doesn't take much persuading. You slowly turn and head back toward your bedreoom. I notice the sunshine coming in through the kitchen window and quickly block it with one of those thick dark curtains as you pass by.
Still dressed you close the bedroom door and flop down on your bed. Soon there is a little knock on the door which I encourage you to ignore. The door opens; a young voice calls out "Mommy are you OK?" You reply that you don't feel well and won't be going to work today. There is no hug, no smile for the young voice who is concerned about you. I insist that you ignore that voice and close your eyes. Before long, dejected, she turns away, closing the door behind her. You grab a cover and pull it up over your head to cover the tears that are falling. Silly tears; I hate it when you cry.
You are in the deepest, darkest part of your world right now. I want to keep you there, away from your family, your friends, your life, convincing you I am the only friend you need and the only one who is able to help you figure out your life.
I am depression. Keep me to yourself and we will die in each other's arms.
I wrote this blog entry because I know first hand from years past what it's like to suffer alone with depression, afraid or unwilling to let anyone in and I know and have known many others in the same space. Wishing I knew how to help them, I try by being there and encourage them to seek outside guidance.