Stuck in a Moment

I battle depression.

There, I have said it. Out loud. In public.

It's something about me that most people who have known me a long time understand about me. I rarely admit it though. I pretend that things are okay with me most of the time. This is how I learned to operate: "everything is okay" at face value. If you admit how you truly feel then you're shameful. You've lost graces in other people's eyes. You let them down. You've lost credit. You're less of a person if you can't handle yourself. Depression is mental illness. Mental Illness makes people uncomfortable. They don't know how to be around you. You are fucked up. Totally. How could anyone want someone like this?

But depressed is where I have been for over a year now. As I have written, my mother's decline from cancer and eventual death was emotionally devestating to me. A mother loves with such power and devotion. Suddenly one of my biggest champions in my life was gone. One of my best friends, my soul mates, gone. Needless to say, I've been a little lost.

My experience last week has renewed me in many unforeseen ways. I think about the woman who died, a woman my age. A mother with children, her elder child the same age as mine. This situation spikes my fears of losing G. In my bouts of depression, he is my light. He is my levity. My husband and my friends provide a similar levity. (When I let them.)

But this past week, I feel more awake. I feel more in touch. I FEEL.

I don't feel quite so shut down. Not willing to hide. I hope this feeling lasts.