An Assessment
It's been a rough few days, but I said I'm going to do this come rain or shine.
Depression is different for everyone, it seems. My depression is a virus, lying dormant for random periods of time, then infecting me again if I have a stutter-step or falter. Just as a carrier of a disease, I'm prone to it overtaking me usually when my system is already weakened, and though the treatment and medication may keep it at bay for a while, it looms in the depth of my brain waiting for the moment when it can ravage me again.
In the throws of an almost manic drop, when the virus has consumed me and obliterated my faith, joy, and energy, comes the desperate need for release--release of the venom that stings my veins and blackens my heart. Sometimes screaming, often with tears, I see a woman raging through the house and destroying everything she truly loves. Consequences don't enter the picture when the raging begins--that's what is hardest for people to understand if they've never been infected. Who you're hurting by hurting yourself never comes to mind. The selfishness of the disease is not unlike it's final strike upon the one who it completely overtakes; when I learned of my friend's death in August, knowing his past I immediately assumed it was suicide, and my thoughts were, "how could he do that to us? how will he ever know how much we all loved him?" However, I already know that the sharpest thorn of taking one's own life is that no matter how much you hurt the ones who love you most, you still can't live for everyone else when you're already dying inside.
Depression is different for everyone, it seems. My depression is a virus, lying dormant for random periods of time, then infecting me again if I have a stutter-step or falter. Just as a carrier of a disease, I'm prone to it overtaking me usually when my system is already weakened, and though the treatment and medication may keep it at bay for a while, it looms in the depth of my brain waiting for the moment when it can ravage me again.
In the throws of an almost manic drop, when the virus has consumed me and obliterated my faith, joy, and energy, comes the desperate need for release--release of the venom that stings my veins and blackens my heart. Sometimes screaming, often with tears, I see a woman raging through the house and destroying everything she truly loves. Consequences don't enter the picture when the raging begins--that's what is hardest for people to understand if they've never been infected. Who you're hurting by hurting yourself never comes to mind. The selfishness of the disease is not unlike it's final strike upon the one who it completely overtakes; when I learned of my friend's death in August, knowing his past I immediately assumed it was suicide, and my thoughts were, "how could he do that to us? how will he ever know how much we all loved him?" However, I already know that the sharpest thorn of taking one's own life is that no matter how much you hurt the ones who love you most, you still can't live for everyone else when you're already dying inside.
posted by Dora Maar at 10:40 AM
5 Comments:
That is the funniest spam ever! In case you've ever got jungle fever... dora...
I'm sorry to hear about what you've been going through :-( Let's talk soon.
xoxoxoxo
love
MJ
No kidding. I've been trying to be more serious and reach a little deeper here lately, and I get a comment about an interracial dating personals site?
Like you said, in case I'm ever down with the brown....
~Dora
Im sorry to hear of your lost and your excruciating pain youve been dealing with. Sometimes, one needs to reach out to others for comfort even when you think you need solitude. This is only a suggustion. The power of intention by Dr. Wayne Dyer. His video just might help with your thoughts during those troubling times or spiritual music.
I really don't know how to respond to your pain because its been awkward for me too.
I appreciated your sharing.
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