I’ve struggled with depression my entire life. It’s like having an unwanted roommate living in my head. No, that implies multiple personality. It’s more like a heavy, wet, woolen blanket that settles down over the top of me at unexpected times, for an unknown duration. And it blocks out the sunshine. Yeah. That’s it. And while the blanket is weighing me down, the air is the consistency of chocolate pudding, which makes it really hard to move.
So depression, for me, is a heavy, chocolate pudding-covered, sunshine-blocking, wet woolen blanket. One that nobody can see but me.
Jeez, that makes me sound unhinged. Ah, well. So be it.
But in a lot of ways, I’m really lucky. I hear that some depressed people can’t sleep. That must be horrific. Not me. When I’m depressed, I can sleep entire days away if given the opportunity. I actually look forward to it.
And some people live in a state of perpetual depression. What a nightmare that must be. Fortunately, my depression comes and goes like the tide, only with less predictability.
Because of that, there’s this sweet spot between depression and normalcy that I cherish. It’s always very abrupt and unexpected. One minute I’m plodding along, and the next… whoosh! The blanket gets whipped off, the sunshine dazzles me, and the air is fresh and clean. All tension and pressure is relieved. It’s like some blockage has been released. Blessed relief. The hills are alive with the sound of music. I get to embrace the normal again.
I have no idea what causes this mood conversion. I wish I did. It would be nice to be in greater control of my brain chemistry.
I’m glad I don’t go the opposite direction, though, into mania. That’s a roller coaster ride that I wouldn’t want to be on, because I bet the end of mania is like the very opposite of my sweet spot, and that would be my definition of hell.
On a brighter note, my depression has really made me appreciate those times when it’s not with me. I can’t imagine taking normalcy for granted. I will always know its value. I may not always have joy, but I’ll always have gratitude. And that’s a good thing.
I wrote this for those of you who can relate. Maybe you’re unable to express yourself in this arena, but need to hear your struggle put into words. Maybe you can share this post with loved ones who don’t quite understand. Regardless, please know that you’re not alone. I’m sending you some sunshine to see you through.
Cultivate an attitude of gratitude! Read my book! http://amzn.to/2mlPVh5
The View from a Drawbridge 
I hear you there Barb. My personal motto is “Life is hard, and then you die” and the meaning of that for me is that I appreciate the good bits as special and moments to cherish
An interestingly positive spin on a rather negative motto, dear friend. I’m glad it works for you!
I endure depression. I describe it as feeling trapped in my own mind and with me, when it’s severe, I have to medicate myself to sleep. I never felt normal. I don’t even know what that’s like. I only felt it in my dreams then wake up to reality. Learning to live with myself is a life long challenge and personally I don’t think I will be relieved of that until I rest in peace. I get breaks of feeling good about something or a situation but other than that, I struggle deeply with depression to a point where it has crippled me. Nature and music seems to be my therapy. Avoiding toxic people is another hard learned lesson.
I know it’s not easy. but it sounds like you’ve learned some lessons. That’s positive. That’s a strength. Hold on to that.