Saturday, June 9, 2018

Lights in the Darkness

As I continue to drag myself out of this trench of depression that held me earlier this year, with the help of medication, I'm rediscovering the sensation of being purely happy in the moment.  This doesn't mean my anxiety is gone - it's always hovering, telling me that the other shoe is bound to drop at any second.  But, it's manageable.  I can brush it away, tell Mildred to shove off, and I can continue to feel really, truly happy.  And on a few rare occasions, simply content - which is a rare feeling for me, even when I'm not depressed.

But as the fog is beginning to drift away, I realize exactly how bad it had gotten.  You never realize how dark it's been until the sun begins to rise. 

And I realize that part of the reason I made it through the dark were the stars that shone brightly, leading my way, reminding me that there was light beyond the abyss.  And those stars were my friends.  Friends who knew how bad it was, and never made me feel guilty about.  Friends who went out of their way to invite me to things.  Friends who, when I had gone too long avoiding people, would do everything they could to make me come.

"My Monday sucks.  Does yours?  Why don't you bring the kids over and they can entertain each other while we drink coffee and try to remember how to function."

"The kids have been asking to play with Sam and Miles.  Mind if we pop by for a couple of hours this week?"

"I need to run to the store for ten minutes alone.  Can you watch my kids, and then we can have lunch after?"

"Join us for dinner.  Everyone is going to be there.  So-and-so was saying they haven't seen you in ages."

"Let's grab coffee and talk about these Festival details that need to be ironed out."

It never felt forced.  Just very chill reminders that there were plenty of people who cared about me, and who would help carry me through this rough patch.  And when I just couldn't, there was no shame, no cajoling.  Simply a sincere, "I get it.  Maybe we can try again tomorrow.  Or next week."

And throughout that, they were honest about the struggles they were having in their lives.  They made me feel normal, and human, on days when that seemed impossible.  And in those times that they were struggling, we leaned on each other, held each other up, and continued to trudge, together, through some of the least pleasant of human experiences.  And they never let me doubt that we'd come out stronger on the other side.

In short, it was exactly the sort of support that someone struggling with depression needs.  And I know exactly how rare and unique that is for someone with mental illness.  I have read the stories, talked to the people, seen the statistics that show what mental illness is for other people  The realities that others face.

And I am reminded how very, very lucky/blessed I am.

So to each of those friends, Thank You. 

I love you.


[Disclaimer: It goes without saying that while my friends were the stars in my night sky, my husband was the one who walked beside me, one steady hand on my back, the other holding a flashlight to light our way.  Love you, Patrick.  Thank you.]

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