"Comes and Goes in Waves," Greg Laswell
This one’s for the lonely, the ones that seek and find,
Only to be let down time after time.
For a lot of people who have never personally dealt with depression or anxiety, it’s hard to grasp what it feels like.
“Why are you anxious and depressed?” they ask.
I don’t know.
“Can you just snap out of it?”
It doesn’t work like that.
“So, is it always like this?”
It comes and goes in waves.
For me, anyway.
This one’s for the torn down, the experts at the fall.
Come on, friends, get up now, you’re not alone at all.
Depression and anxiety have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. It started when I was young, and as a 26-year-old adult, it’s still here. It’s not always present, and most of the time I keep it at bay. In high school, I would have a bad week or a bad month, which seemed to be “normal.”
Then there were my first two years of college, when all I had were bad months.
It comes and goes in waves, I am only led to wonder why.
It comes in goes in waves, I am only led to wonder why.
I felt like I was spinning, yet completely stuck at the same time. I let the shame and guilt of what was happening prevent me from sharing what was happening in my head. I just kept pushing and trying to get a good day, so that the waves of depression and anxiety would cease to wash over me. But working, studying, going to class, swimming, or spending time with friends brought no relief.
At some point during my third term of college I found my way to the student health services building and into their free counseling session program. I needed something to change. Everything I tried wasn’t working, and there had to be someone who could figure out why the rapid pounding in my chest never stopped or the weight of sadness I carried never lightened.
Thankfully, there was someone. And for the first time in my life, I knew what was happening to me was something that happens to a lot of 18 year-olds away from home, starting a life on their own. I was taught some things that would help me manage my depression and anxiety. I was assured it wouldn’t always be this way. But most importantly, I found relief in knowing I wasn’t irreparably damaged—and I could try again.
This one’s for the ones who stand, for the ones who think they can,
For the ones who need a hand, for the ones who try again.
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