Depression

Sometimes they talk about depression as the black dog, but that’s hard for me to relate to because

My Black Dog, Rosie

I literally have often had black dogs, and to me they don’t describe depression.  Sometimes my black dog is the only thing that staves off the depression that threatens.

Depression to me is like being in a house with dirty windows.  Everything is cast in gray, smudged, blurry and dark.  I know there is sunshine just outside, but I can’t really see it through the windows.  I can see the substance of what’s outside, but not the color or the vibrancy.  And I feel tied to the house with the dirty windows, even if I want the sunshine that is just outside.  I stay in the house and sometimes I look out the dirty windows, but I can’t quite bring myself to clean them, or to open them, or to walk outside, because the gloom has captivated me.  It holds me prisoner in an unlocked cell because I can’t see my way to anything better outside the cell.

Inside the cell, I can stay isolated.  I can avoid talking to anyone or interacting with anyone at all.  I can ignore the knock on my door, the phone, or text messages and email.  And I do, because the depression talks to me.  It tells me lies, and I know they’re lies, but I can’t seem to help but listen to them.

The lies sound like truth, or maybe they feel like truth but only the truth that I can see through the dirty windows.

I had this dream the other day. In the dream, I was asleep and then I woke up, and there was this big picture window by me, I could see it from my bed.  I looked out the window and the mountains were out there, much closer than they are here since I’m on the eastern side of town, though I can still see them if I’m in the right place, but this was like I was living much closer to them.  They took up the whole window.

In the dream I wanted to take a picture with my phone, even though it was through glass it was important to me to preserve what I saw, though as is typical of dreams, I don’t know why it was so important.  I don’t know why I felt in a hurry right then, but as I went to get my phone and try to set it up for the picture, a mist was rapidly coming in and covering up the mountains.  It started light and very soon obscured them completely.

When I woke up, for a minute I expected there to be a big picture window.

But it was sad.  It was like it was all just going away, not enough time or out of reach. It was a beautiful view but I couldn’t hold on to the beauty.

Talking with a friend about it, she said, “The mist kinda hides what’s there.”

But its more like I couldn’t capture it that way I wanted to but yes,  I guess it was still there behind the mist.  I just didn’t feel it there, that wasn’t the part I felt.  The picture was slipping away along with my chance to capture it

 

My friend said, “maybe an ebb in the flow. the walking through the mist.  gotta walk through it to get to the other side?”

I guess I could try to reframe it like that but what I felt was that it was gone; I’d never be able to capture it again.  I’d lost it for good to the mist.

But its true, the mountains will still be there.  They are solid, they are constant.

In the dream I felt desolate, like I could never find them again, never capture that perfect view.  But that is just one of the lies depression tells me.   I have to find a way to know the mountains are still there and I can capture it another day.

That’s just a part of how depression works.  It goes back to the dirty windows, and the cell with no lock.

So for now, I do know they’re there, even if I can’t see them, even if i can’t feel them.  And now I just need to find a way to believe it in spite of what my depression shows me.

For you, readers-

When someone you know is in that house with the dirty windows, they might not answer the door, they might not answer the phone, or the texts, or the email.  They might hide away.   Just remember they are being held captive in a cell without a lock, in a house with dirty windows where they can’t see the real world.

So maybe you can knock on the door a little more, and not give up.  Maybe you can find a way to help them leave the house, or maybe you can help them clean the windows, even if its just a little area that shows the outside.  That little area might be the little bit of hope they need.

Don’t try to change how they feel, just try to understand and let them see a little more than they did before you came.  None of us can ever really understand what’s going on inside someone else, but we can ask, and we can try to see it.  And we can offer a different view.  We can try to clear a spot on the window.  Maybe we can even open the door and let the sun shine in for a little bit.