Until saying it out loud, I didn’t realize how many
things have contributed to my depression. And how depressed I really am. I
can’t put a finger on exactly how I feel.
Yesterday I had more feeling. But it wasn’t a good
feeling. I was sad and angry and anxious. Still, it’s got to be better than
this numbness, this nothingness. Doesn’t it? Today I just feel empty and alone
–like the world is nothing more than a great empty desert and I’m standing in
the middle with no idea which way to go. Which way will lead to civilization? Which
way will lead to anything, even a small mirage of something that feels like
joy? Which way will lead me out of this hollow arid land? I don’t know. So here
I stand, not taking a step, just staring out at the endless nothing.
Every so often I get a glimpse of hope. Maybe I can
see my way home. I venture carefully into that hope, one step at a time,
feeling my way across the hot sand. But I come right back to the middle of this
desert that is my heart.
When I think about it logically, I have no reason to
feel this way: I don’t have a terminal illness; my children are all healthy; I
have a roof over my head and food in my belly. I have much more than a lot of
people, yet I am empty. I can’t remember the last time I felt joy. I don’t mean
the last time I smiled, because I do smile. I mean, anyone can plaster a fake
smile on their face when they are really crying on the inside, screaming would
be more accurate. I can laugh at a funny joke, or smile when the kids say
something sweet. But there is no emotion in it. It’s merely a simulation of
what I know I should be feeling.
The only emotion I have left is sadness. A terrible
melancholy that is permanent, unmoving, and it’s drowning me.
I often wonder how my sadness affects my children. I
worry that it’s damaging them. I mean, it can’t be any fun growing up with no
father and a mother who has forgotten how to be happy. That’s how it feels,
like I have just forgotten. And maybe, if I can remember what made me happy
before, before this dark cloud settled over me, if only I could remember how to be happy, maybe then the sun
would shine again. I try. I try so hard to remember how to be happy. And
occasionally I think I do. But it only lasts seconds before I forget again and
the sadness erases any sense that happiness has ever visited this barren
desert. I think maybe I have Alzheimer’s of the heart.
Sometimes I wish I would crash. If I could feel
physical pain, at least I would be feeling something. Anything is better than
an uninhabited heart.
I know what you are talking about!! I hope it lifts! Reading Eckhart Tolle gave me some insight and hope.
ReplyDeleteThanks again Cybele. I started doing Yoga a couple of weeks ago and it is doing wonders for my mood. I am feeling happy, actually happy, for the first time in a couple of years.
DeleteThank you for being such an avid reader of my blog, and thank you for making a connection with what I write.