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…