Here we are at the beginning of another year. 2018 was supposed to be a stellar year for me because of my birthday magic – I turned 48 on 8/8/18. Bought my 8 lottery tickets and everything but alas, no millions here. Overall, it was a great year, though.
I have so much to celebrate and be grateful for, the most important of all being the health, happiness and success of my three children. They continually boggle my mind with their kindness, insight and focus on developing their individual talents. Pride in one’s children is the best gift of all.
I took a Hiatus for the Holidays, hoping the creative genies would reappear but instead those nasty black gnomes of depression showed up again. Not until Boxing Day at least, so I enjoyed a wonderful Christmas with my family. But they showed up with a vengeance, planting their little fish hooks all over me and pulling me down into their abyss.
Depression is a vicious predator. It doesn’t just affect the person suffering but emanates throughout a household. You can ‘fake it til you make it’ as much as you wish but everyone feels the cloud. Then, of course, you can add depression’s nasty cousin, guilt, to the mix as well.
Even knowing intellectually that the depression is either hormonal (perimenopause is a freaking blast, isn’t it? If I tear up at one more stupid commercial…😭🙄) or MS-related, thereby completely out of my control, doesn’t alleviate the guilt.
However, brooding on either isn’t going to help anything. So, I’m allowing myself the space to feel whatever I’m going to feel and trying to keep to myself as much as possible, without being a total hermit. I do one thing a day to feel productive, and call it good.
One day, one minute at a time
The black gnomes of depression
pierce me all over
Their fish hooks tug me down
Snarling and giggling gleefully
with the ogres of fatigue
Pulling from the depths
with their leaden anchors
They all swirl together toward
The dark pit in the centre
Nauseating boiling ice
But despair and guilt
Waking me in the night
Marrying the pain
The soles of my feet peeled like carrots
The tops shrieking, spasming
The ankles stabbing
Praying for sleep
Praying for release
Praying for me
I’m still struggling but I’m thinking of the parable of the mule in the well that I read the other day. Hmmm…should I be worried that I’m relating to a jackass? 😜 This article from Patch does a much better job of telling it than I can right now.
Shake it off and step up : THE WISE OLD MULE – An Inspiring Parable That Can Improve Your Life!
I hope 2019 has gotten off to great start for you. If not, take those small steps up out of the darkness every day. It may not feel like it, but things will get better if you keep fighting the fight.
I send you all my best wishes for a happy, healthy and pain-free new year.
Other mental health posts I’ve written: