Depression is like a dark swirling whirlpool that would love nothing more than to drag me down to the very bottom and drown me. So why is it that sometimes when I stand on the brink looking in, it is so tempting to stick a foot in and let it pull on me? Is it possible that I enjoy being miserable? That really doesn't make any sense at all. I feel crazy sometimes. Maybe it is too hard to try, easier to not care. Today I feel like I am sitting by the edge soaking my feet in the whirlpool. It doesn't really feel good, but it is so hard to pull them out and dry them off.
I am grateful my feet are all that is soaking right now. I have been very close to the bottom before. It is a scary, uncontrollable feeling to be drowning. I don't ever want to be down there again but I can't help it when I dip my feet in or stumble and fall in completely. I want to put up barriers, a pool fence if you will, to keep me safe. I haven't found a material sturdy enough for my fence yet.
I want my happy back. I don't like the dark feelings that course through my brain sometimes. I want to be as carefree as I imagine other people are (I realize that is just an illusion, everyone has issues). Could I just have a day to be happy? I would take ignorant bliss even.
Who stole my happy? I should offer a reward. Call the police and tell them I need help (getting a little giggle imagining that phone call). Maybe I didn't lose it after all, it is just hiding from me. Maybe if I looked closer at my life and the many MANY blessings that are mine I could find it. Would I get it back? Or would I feel like I was looking at it through a thick pane of glass? No touching, no feeling, like in a museum? How many other people have lost their happy only to find it behind that impenetrable glass? At the happy museum how many displays would there be? Is your happy there too? Consorting with the other happys?
Tomorrow I hope I can stay drier. And someday I'd like to find that missing happy and break that damn glass.
7 hours ago
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