Finding Meaning Amidst the Madness

It lingers like a mist filled morning when the sun refuses to shine. It suffers in shallow waters like a beached whale. It screams in silence like a fly trapped in a spider's web.



I'm smiling on the outside, laughing and making jokes. No need to worry about me, every thing is just fine. But in the corridors of my mind, waiting just around the corner, the darkness lurks. It whispers silently, beckoning me to it's cold embrace. I resist and fight for a time, but the call is irresistable. A siren song, promising to protect me and keep me from harm. When I surrender, I have found safety once again. Nothing can hurt me here.

I have wrestled with depression for as long as I can remember. Sometimes I believe that it is genetic as my brother and sister have also battled their own inner demons. My Dad's mother also suffered with depression for most of her life and we spoke about the subject on more than one occasion. She was a kindred spirit and I miss her dearly.

I don't really talk about it much with friends. I am afraid that it would drive them away. Instead, I do my best to help others and to always be the one who is there to offer support and a shoulder to cry on. I have become a sponge for human emotions, soaking up the sorrow and hurt around me. But there is never a release, never a place where I feel that I can safely relinquish what is being held captive inside. Like a dam, I stand firm, holding back the raging waters.



My sister Janet and I have often discussed the similar feeling that we are somehow displaced in time, for lack of better words. That somewhere, somewhen, there is a place where we belong, and a people who know us and accept us for who we are. I have often joked and laughed with my sister that perhaps we are faerie changelings, switched at birth with our true human counterparts. Existing in this world, but never truly a part. We can be in a crowd, yet feel completely alone, like we don't really belong.

Any emotion that I experience is felt deeply, and at times even the good emotions can be painful. So I often wear a mask, smiling with encouragement to those that I care about. I love masks. They hide the truth, which is often too uncomfortable to bear.

I don't want to give the impression that my entire life is spent in darkness. There are times when I experience great joy, and at other times I have encountered spiritual experiences that have left me elated and hungering for more. But there is rarely ever an even medium.



Tomorrow when I wake up I may regret writing this post. I may worry about what those who read it may think. I may feel embarassed for letting down my guard, removing the mask and being honest with my feelings. After all, I don't want to be seen as weak or crazy. But this is a part of who I am. Maybe, someday, I will be able to remove the mask to those who would truly understand and accept me in a non judgemental way. But for now...