A friend asked me today what depression felt like. I told her i had lived with it for so long, I couldn’t describe it anymore. It is a part of my life. But it’s moments like this that remind me, thats not true. It’s time like now that remind me, i know its face well. The nights you sit alone, and remember at once every detail you tried so hard to forget. The pit in your stomach that seems to have no end. I’ve watched for days now and watched the cycle restart. You wear the mask that is as real as this world. Drifting through a reality you know does not exist, only accompanied by my mind. Quickly, turn it to anger. I can not punch my way out of my head. Drown this in whiskey! Silly me, don’t you know alcohol makes embers burn hotter? Moving heavily, pack a bowl! I will choke down every sweet hit. But the hollowness remains, as empty as space. I know the infinite energy in nothing. Repeating aloud the words of men who met their fates centuries ago, try to gain control. Mount these feelings like your horse. This will be my steed. I have been kicked, and thrown, and trampled; but this is my companion. Like a mirror reflecting on myself (and the line that separates reflection from reality), I know what I am. I have the rare opportunity to see both what is, and what is not. This storm exists, and in me it is real. But having survived, one learns to find the eye, and to sit with the wind. I mourn the loss of love, but rejoice at its possibility. I regale in horror at the actions of my hands, and know the mercy that is required to carry on. Being good and evil, I become neither. Just a dreamer no longer running from his nightmare. I will sit to suffer and learn. I will adapt to find my peace. I will be as I find, to find what I am not.
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