Lost

She told me she would be my downfall; and she was right…

It wasn’t like I hadn’t thought of instances like this numerous times before. Mostly when her head was in my lap and I would gently tuck her hair behind her ear. Her eyelids would flutter as she sighed in her sleep, but that sigh would mean she felt safe, comfortable. It meant everything to me to provide her with that security.

I could spend hours just watching her sleep. The rise and fall of her breathing sending my brain into a peaceful meditation. It always surprised me how I could find the beauty in her slumber, but I could never pause to enjoy things such as rain or sunshine. These occurrences just didn’t hold a flame next to the blissful silence we shared when she dozed in my lap.

I think we both relished in this silence; knowing these moments wouldn’t last forever. Knowing that this was never meant to be, but we continued for a while. These silent moments between us becoming the basis of our relationship, if you could call it that. A mutual give and take, though I felt as though I gave far more than her. And she took everything that I had to give.

These moments always ended with her taking a large breath, sitting up slowly, and kissing my cheek. Wordlessly she would take her leave, gathering her things and walking out the door, out of my life.

I would be left there on that couch, staring at the walls that made up my life. My fingers would ache to stroke every strand of her hair, my skin would burn for the feel of her slow breathing. These moments were never enough, never satisfying.

In the end I knew she would never fully be mine. I knew that I couldn’t allow myself to fall, but every time she offered me even that small fraction of herself I felt a little more of my heart leave with her out the door.

When she finally did leave for good she took every meaningful piece of me with her. I was left on that couch, longing for a person who was never fully there to begin with.

The first time she didn’t return my head was full of sadness. The lump in my throat so large it felt as if I would suffocate. Every time after that the lump would return smaller and smaller than before. Eventually my sadness melted away into longing, frustration and finally anger.

Angry that I would allow those small moments to rule my emotions. Angry that though I knew she was a wandering soul, I allowed her to wander off with my heart and soul.

She told me she would be my downfall… and in the end I allowed her to be right.

 

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Blank Pages and Black Pits

I’ve probably been sitting here staring at this screen for some time. The blankness of the page honestly speaks more to how I’m feeling than any words that I could place here. I think I’m slipping again. The inevitable pit that I always seem to find myself slipping into has returned.

You see all these posts on facebook about “Depression Awareness! Depression doesn’t make you weak!” etc. etc. I hate them. I hate every single one of them. I hate the “Make this your status for an hour to raise awareness about depression!”. What is that going to do? Great, we’re all aware that depression exists, but I promise your acknowledgement of it isn’t making me feel any better.

Because for me, Depression IS my weakness. It is this giant aspect of my emotional personality that I cannot control, I cannot pull out of, and sometimes I don’t even want to.

They say “If you can tell that it’s coming, why can’t you just make it stop?”

Picture this:

It’s 5:30. You’re sitting on your bed in your bedroom listening to your son play in the other room. He really is a gem and can make you smile even through the worst of things. Your significant other is being soft spoken because he saw your face when you walked in the door. The lack of sparkle in your eye, the avoidance of eye contact. The way every so often you grimace and your eyes cloud over and he knows that your brain isn’t remotely in the same room as him. You’re casually pinching your fingertips or wringing your hands, just trying to create some semblance of feeling because the feelings inside are mostly just dead. You know that you have responsibilities, dinner needs made, the kid needs a bath and bedtime routine, etc. But the more you think about taking on those tasks the more impossible they seem. Your brain refuses to even focus on what it takes to START the tasks. The reality of the situation is you really want to tell your loved ones to go figure it out on their own while you sit here in silence overthinking everything, trying desperately to either cry or stop crying depending on the moment.

It’s such a vicious, heartbreaking state to be in. Like so many mine comes in cycles. I do great for a few months, and then I slowly feel myself start to crumble. I don’t have any magical advice as to how to get through it. If I did I’d probably be able to save myself.

The reality of Depression is that there really is no getting over it. You have to work through it, train your brain to think positively and hope to God this episode passes.

Which is exactly what I am doing now.