some people describe their depression like a veil that fogs
their view. living in shadows and blurry lines, confused and dazed- everything
unclear. or existing in a movie you can’t pause or fast-forward or leave the
theatre for a better show.
for me depression has always been more like a hangnail, a
headache or a charley horse. a pain invisible and not incapacitating but always
present; nagging me and hungry for attention. i used to try and starve the
beast. i thought if i ignored it, it would go away or at least fade… at so many
parties in college i remember leaning against walls to hold me from collapse,
gripping a plastic cup brimming with beer, my fingers so taut they often cramped
from the tension of holding on… always holding on… i would smile and laugh but
one hand or shoulder or elbow was always touching that wall. i couldn’t move. i
remember feeling if i let go I would fall… down, down, down.
i was always a good actress. i could step out center stage
and shake things up! people cheered
and rushed to greet my arrival, but no one really knew how much i paid for each
performance. each hour of stardom cost me many more in retreat, deep in the
dark, silent and alone in my room, gently licking wounds i couldn’t see and
didn’t know how i got them. sometimes my roommates thought i wasn't even home… so quiet i
became in my recuperation.
i learned later on in college, if i gave in, gave myself a
metered amount of time to wallow and then forced myself back in the game, i could more
effortlessly turn on that light that glowed, attracting people to me like
moths, warming hearts and charming, always charming. sadly, i never understood
that people liked this person standing
in front of them; i only thought of turning out a convincing performance. and
so, i missed out on some real relationships, some real feelings and genuine experiences
because i was always living behind the character. hiding the charley horse that
pinched in my chest.
i can still play through the pain, though i want to less and
less. it is a process learning how much you can reveal and still hold on to
yourself, learning how to balance what is inside and what needs to be on
display in a range of practical circumstances. but you eventually learn, like with
everything, sometimes you succeed and sometimes you fail. funny enough, most
people pay more attention to the victories than the defeats. small mercies,
bless them…
in real life there are no medals awarded for vaulting with a
broken foot. we soldier on because that is all we can do.
