An unexpected visitor
This weight. This heaviness. This fog. An unexpected and yes, unwanted, visitor. I always thought depression would have more feelings. But this wait. This living in lack is too much for me. Bed is a respite from the drudgery of everyday life. Of pushing myself to do — again and again — until I cannot.
Being so tired all the time is tiring. In the exhaustion of being. In lack. In need. Overly anxious. Too much. Not enough. For me, for them — to get on with it. Shame is a weighty burden.
I want to give you up — a backpack of rocks placed on the shoulders of a small girl, now adult.
I long to molt. To shed this shame. A cocoon for wings — to leave it all behind. But shame is elusive — and it does not tolerate metaphors. It lingers in the broken places — my broken places. It hurt; I know.
Shame rips and tears and weighs me down. Berating me for this exhaustion. Too many words for you — for me, until there was only a blankness. But my words are slowly returning. To page, to life. I am returning to myself. Slowly.
Impatient with myself. This in-between hurts. I am restless for spring. Seeds to ground — looking for tiny sprigs of hope. To see. To savor. To water, then fertilize the soil with pills and words. As a rain of tears speckles the ground. Glittery raindrops appear beneath the soil. My roots and bones ache buried underground.
Healing is hard and I am impatient with time and this artful chemistry, when looking better comes before feeling better. Healing is hard, I remind myself yet again. And growth is slow — and often exhausting. Be patient little sprouts.
Take hope. Then leave aphorisms behind. Find your own words for being alive again. Roots run deeper still, even with little support. We grow so slowly. And patience, like hope, is hard to sustain in dry ground. But still, we hope. Because the absence of hope dries the soil. Seedlings need rain and fertile ground. A plan for living, being, existing. They cannot sustain themselves. Or live on hope alone.
And so we sit with these seeds buried deep in earth. Waiting for spring to arrive here.