[Nevertheless] There is Light

The thing about my depression is that I don't know how bad I'm drowning until I'm able to come up for air.

As someone who lives with chronic illness and pain, I'm good at acting as if I'm not in pain - not just physical pain, but mental and emotional pain. At Alia's physical therapy evaluation recently, when asked if the pain in her back ever gets so bad that she cries, she answered no. Then I answered, "she doesn't cry when she's in pain." Alia added that, in fact, she laughs when she's in pain. In that moment, I realized that I do, too. That is, until the pain is utterly overwhelming - then tears flow freely.

Not only when I have t-rex arms or other physical pain, but when I'm in mental and emotional pain as well, I laugh, I smile, I joke. I make light. And my soul breaks into even smaller pieces. Depression blinds me to this elaborate illusion that everything is ok. It builds a wall of guilt-sustatining isolation and lonliness that distances me from those with whom I should have the closest connections. I implode, numbing myself with endless youtube videos, solitaire, and solitude - my drugs of choice.

This time, it took a nuclear explosion to bring me to the surface, where I gupled in air before descending again, kicking, grasping, struggling toward the next breath ... toward air, toward life, toward hope. Feeling the light on my face once again put into sharp relief just how long I had existed in the abyss. My descent was so gradual it was imperceptible, but over time, the depression grew deep and the darkness consuming. 

Nevertheless, rays of light permeated the darkness along the way. I authentically enjoyed bits and pieces of my life - mostly the parts where I was able to give of myself in some way. Perhaps because I had many moments of true joy, and was battling a host of illnesses, and homeschooling, and volunteering... and... and... I failed to differentiate depression from the consequences of being an active person with multiple chronic illnesses.

It was those rays of Light and Hope that sustained me. Now surfacing again, I will keep my face turned toward the Light, seeking health and healing. If I should find myself once again sinking away from the light, I will address what's going on within myself so that I may once again turn toward the Source.