Thursday, January 08, 2009

in search of treasure

It could be a touch of post-holiday blues, sliding down off the high of sun and surf and sleeping late into wind and cold and schedules. It was just the break we needed, but it was over too soon and isn't that enough to make any normal person feel somewhat miserable?

Personally I don't think it is post-holiday blues. More a touch of mild depression. For some time I have felt detached from events going on around me, a puppet on strings woodenly observing everyone else living life. My internal mood gauge is flashing its own warning sign - the clouds are devoid of beauty. When I am happy and engaged and enthusiastic about life, clouds never fail to capture my attention. Be they dark and threatening, scudding in fast motion past azure blue, billowing upwards in sun tipped splendour or making faces, I notice and drink in their beauty. Not now though. Now they seem all grey. The sky is grey, the flowers are grey, life stands out in monochrome.

I've been here before, in this greyness. Same story, different stressors: too much emotion leaking from numerous small wounds, too little restocking with love and light and life. God is love. Jesus is the light of the world. The Holy Spirit breathes life. I missed them. Forgot them in the midst of the wounding and now I am depleted, reduced, a shadow.

The trouble with depression is that it draws me so fully into its misery. The sky is not grey, nor are the flowers, and life beckons me in full colour, yet depression dulls my senses, shutters my eyes and the truth dances past unnoticed.

I was depressed once before and it was worse. My good friend contracted me to call her if I thought I might kill myself. I never really contemplated ending my own life, there was no plan. I only wished someone else would end it all for me, that I might not wake up and have to face another day. No, it's not that bad this time and I'm imbibing St John's Wort, Berocca and endorphins in an effort to prevent any further progression in that direction.

Something else I remember from previous blue days was the turning point. I know depression is more than the result of negative thinking, but when you're miserable the mind tends to misery. Negative thoughts crowd in unbeckoned. There is a temptation to wallow: woe is me, for I am undone. I remember deciding then enough was enough. I had sat in the pit for long enough and it was time to look up. In the end I came out of that depression in a matter of days, although I had been down there for a few months.

With previous experience in mind, I'm trying to cultivate positive thinking. The world is not playing out its life in black and white, so every day I look for a flash of colour and cling to it. Today it was the sense of community at the homespun market I stumbled across, chatting casually with people I knew, barely knew or had never met before in my life. Yesterday it was the moon shining it's pure white light onto a world already tipped with pink from the setting sun. Like extra lighting in a photograph that cancels out lines and wrinkles, the moon cast a soft, perfecting glow over our very ordinary street. On holidays I was fascinated by the sand balls produced by tiny crabs.

Natural artistry that delighted me no end.

I call them my treasures, those daily flashes of brightness in the midst of the grey. God's gifts breathing love and light and life back into the dark recesses of my mind. Each day I find one and hold it in my hand, gazing upon it, letting healing and hope flow. Day by day colour creeps past the shutters of my mind.

I am restored one treasure at a time.

Labels: , ,


At 7:23 pm, January 11, 2009, Blogger Mike S said...

Part of the recovery is often to just acknowledge the problem in written form, something which you've done here very beautifully. If the feeling persists for a long period, it doesn't hurt to look for a possible physical component as well. Them little 'ball builders' are amazingly intriguing:)

At 5:14 pm, January 12, 2009, Blogger Robyn said...

You know I'm praying for you and I want to help if I can. Wish you were moving up this way.....

At 5:17 am, January 13, 2009, Blogger Cherie said...

Cecily, it never ceases to amaze me how poetic and vivid can be the writing of one who is depressed. This post is beauty and pain, relatable, sad, hopeful, and oh so true. I've often wondered if I'm most in tune with life when depression shrouds.

Depression ebbs and flows. Thank God for the ebb!

Give yourself permission to feel this state you are in, to embrace it, to become acquainted with it thoroughly once again. It's part of life for many of us. It can be a friend in a weird sort of way if only because it helps us realize afresh how peaceful is life without it.

Too, I agree with Mike that if it lasts too long it doesn't hurt to look for possible physical components as well. Balance. Balance. Balance.

My heart is with you, dear Cecily.

At 6:06 am, January 13, 2009, Blogger merrymishaps said...

I hope the fog lifts soon, Cecily.

Take care of yourself!

At 8:07 am, January 14, 2009, Blogger deanna said...

I hear you, Cecily, about the way depression can feel. You and the commenters have said well what I would emphasize. Thanks for sharing about something that's part of this life - maybe moreso in this techno age, but whatever the cause it's with us and we can admit it's true and heal again.

At 12:38 pm, January 22, 2009, Blogger Sandy's Notes said...

Cecily, I agree with everyone on your writing, it's poetic and dances gracefully; how beautiful.

It seems though that you are a true person. You acknowledge your feelings, and because of all the education you have in psychology you are able to understand what you're going through. You seem to have found a way to treat yourself, to heal yourself, and love the emotions you have; still somehow know what emotions must be dealt with and made to go away.

The sun will wait for you so you can feel it's rays and love once again. Until then, we are all pulling for you.

Hugs and more hungs sent your way.


Post a Comment

<< Home