Updated: Feb 18, 2019
Two years have gone by. But where did they go?
If not for the kiss of friendship from a true love from far away would I ever have awakened? Sometimes that's what it takes to be released from the bone crushing juggernaut of organic depression.
I had been languishing for over a year. Not untreated, but not thriving either. Because one of the hallmarks of this lifelong illness is its cunning ability to drive one underground, away from the contacts and community one needs most.
There is an inherent sense of shame and humiliation that sets in as the pall of grey settles over one's body, a palpable weight rendering one helpless from seemingly simple tasks. It is a sense of being held captive by ghosts.
To the outsider, seeing nothing present, it must appear bewildering, even frustrating, as all attempts to motivate or assist fail. Believe me, it is just as baffling on the inside as out, as a silent hand clamps down on one's chest, inhibiting movement, day after day. Only something equally monumental seemed to move me: As my compatriot called informing me she'd literally lost everything, my compassion rose to meet her and my heart swelled beyond the reaches of my depression. As we were problem solving for her future, she challenged me about mine:
Why are you not blogging your experience?
Indeed, why not? Mutual compassion reaches beyond the bondage of self. Her question, her life, seized me. For in the depths of true loss, she was seeking creative ways to move forward and I was helping her to find them. In that moment of awareness, the Light in each of us spoke to each other and I was able to feel it once again.