There’s a cliché I’ve heard and seen on Facebook memes more times than I want to remember: “Dance like nobody’s watching.” True, perhaps, but I still find it quite cheesy. But maybe, just maybe this once, I’ll heed this advice in my own way and “Write like nobody’s reading”…
Once again, I find myself in the midst of a struggle with the metaphorical black dog. So far, I am losing. I know that all I can do for now is to hold on and ride it out.
On past occasions, I’ve compared my own experiences with depression to that of an epileptic. What I mean is that it’s something so volatile, that occurs without warning, and leaves me feeling frightened with each bout. But every so often, I notice a pattern with these bouts. They tend to occur in the evening, more often now than before, as though there’s a witching hour. Now that I think about it, maybe it also has to do a bit with Seasonal Affective Disorder, as the shortened winter days here in Argentina make it harder for me to wake up and to stay up. *Shrug*
When these episodes hit me, watch out. It’s almost like I can literally feel the transformation in my head, as though I am turning into some kind of monster (think Michael Jackson in “Thriller”). All I want to do is scream to those around me, “For the love of God, get away! Save yourselves!”
I wish that I could write more about what makes me happy, all that I have and everything that I should be thankful for.
I wish that I could blog about more than just depression. There’s so much more to life, life which is so precious (yet so fickle).
I wish that I could turn off a part of my brain, just the part that makes me like this. Wonder which part that would be, frontal lobe, perhaps?
For now, it’s all I can do to take a deep breath (or twenty) and carry on. One foot in front of the other. Here I go…
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