I never understood what depression was. I didn’t realize how one allowed oneself to get there and why they couldn’t just pull themselves out of it. I had a lot of judgment surrounding it and therefore was blocked from really seeing it for what it is.

Depression is anger turned inwards ~ Sigmund Freud

And then there I was depressed. I didn’t realize it at first. By nature, I can be very reclusive and enjoy being on my own, but this was different. Way different. It hit one summer several years ago.

It was a year of changes, relationship, career, and long term goals. I was also consumed with self-discovery, delving into the deepest recesses and darkest corners of my psyche. I am a relatively balanced and ‘git r done’ kind of woman, but that summer, I seemed to be at a standstill. Reflecting back on it now it was as if I was in a void.

I dealt with it the only way I knew how to go it alone and forge through the darkness, somewhere I had faith that ‘this too shall pass’.

In hindsight I can say after my solo journey, that solo is not the only way to fly, sometimes a good co-pilot is required.

When I realized I was depressed, in actuality, it was weeks after I fell into it. I might I have unknowingly been in a low-grade depression for years, when it finally dawned on me that something was amiss, I was already in the pit.

It felt as if I could barely move. My limbs felt heavy as did my soul. 

For days I would not leave my property. It took every ounce of will power to feed my animals. Dishes typically washed and put away stayed piled in the sink. Basic tasks like making the bed seemed daunting.

I screened my calls, and so as not to alarm anyone, I made a fraction of contact. When I ventured out, my sunglasses were dark, and my hat was pulled low on my head, hoping to be invisible to the world.

Although I avoided seeing friends or family feigning being too busy, on occasion, I would comply and meet up. Putting on a happy face, no one knew what was going on within my world.

If someone asked if everything was alright, if I didn’t answer with “yes, everything is fine,” and happened to say, “I was feeling depressed,” the response was, “Why? What are you depressed about?” or “Why would you be depressed with everything you have going on?”

Putting on a happy face was more comfortable than the backlash of explanation. I could finish up as quickly as possible and return to the solace and safety of my home.

“It’s so difficult to describe depression to someone who’s never been there, because it’s not sadness.”  ~ J.K Rowling

 

It was not until after I passed through the darkness did I understand. Depression is real. I can only share a morsel of how I navigated it.

In the scheme of things I was minorly affected, others live with it chronically. Regardless of the duration, I understood how it could consume one.

I was able to teeter on the brink, dipping a toe in, testing the waters without falling entirely into the abyss. Others are not as fortunate.

Some would say I was not in a depression; I might have just been out of sorts. Well yes, I was out of sorts, I was depressed. There may be some truth; I was depressed and not in a depression. My nature is not depressive. And I was not diagnosed. I do know, if not by sheer determination fighting it tooth and nail, it would have gotten the best of me.

I did two things that were my saving grace that summer.

I wrote poetry, and I hiked with my dogs.

Without man’s best friend, I would not have stepped into the fresh air getting my endorphins moving. My dogs once again proved to be a life raft for my soul.

At night, I would often stay up into the wee hours, writing or doing nothing but staring into my darkroom or out the window into the darkness. During the quiet of the night, surrounded by the cloud that engulfed me, my deepest feelings would be felt.

Sometimes I would cry. And cry and cry. I never cried as I did that summer. It was as if all of the sadness and hurt I had ever experienced in my life was asking to escape.

So I howled out my pain, with my dogs curled up next to me. One would lick my face as the sobbing subsided and then curl up again when another wave hit. Exploring my inner workings allowed me to wallow in my feelings. Then hiking and writing gave them an exit door.

When things came crashing down, I didn’t understand as deeply as I do now about The Let Go.

There are thoughts that depression is anger turned inwards, and upon hearing that, my first reaction was, “No way, not me.I’m not angry”. However, as I looked deeper I started to see the truth in it. I was angry. I was mad in myself for not following my instincts, for allowing my expectations of how things should have been’  to disappoint me. Hadn’t I learned that lesson already, no expectations, no disappointments?

My Let Go moments were many. Understanding why I was angry was a start. Letting go of what my expectations had been and accepting what was, was far better. Another Let Go was to be kinder to me.

I was always hardest on myself and I learned that sometimes the softest touch is the most powerful.

I am grateful for that summer of crying. It allowed me to understand something I had previously judged. One of the gifts gained was empathy for those who live within the walls of depression. Being depressed made a more compassionate me. I do not know if that darkness will revisit, but I will trust, this too shall pass. And, sometimes we need a break, to just sit in the void and cry.

Chloe my sweet girl, who knew all of my heart ~RIP 2016

“If you know someone who’s depressed, please resolve never to ask them why. Depression isn’t a straightforward response to a bad situation; depression just is, like the weather.

Try to understand the blackness, lethargy, hopelessness, and loneliness they’re going through. Be there for them when they come through the other side. It’s hard to be a friend to someone who’s depressed, but it is one of the kindest, noblest, and best things you will ever do.”  

~ Stephen Fry

 

To anyone with depression, the reasons that depression exists can be serious, please seek professional advice.