I Will Dance

One of the hardest parts of being in depression's depths is when others don’t understand.

Snap out of it!

But you have so much to be thankful for!

Focus on the positive!

Your life is great!

My depression often has nothing to do with my outside circumstances.

I’ll admit I’m having a bad day today. The weight of the darkness is residing in my chest and my body physically hurts.

I woke up with a sense of gloom hanging over me, a sense of the meaninglessness of it all.

I reminded myself of all those things well-intentioned people point out—I have a beautiful family, work, a house, food, but none of that matters.

The children start the day off arguing:

Sit on my bed first, Mommy!

No, mine!

Even though we’ve worked out a schedule where I take turns of whose bed I’ll sit on first—that all falls away into whining and crying. And then the oldest joins in.

It’s not the kids and the arguing and noise that makes me depressed, but when I’m already depressed, this kind of nonsense just spirals me out of control.

Before I know it, the morning has devolved into everyone screaming and crying and my daughter wrapping her arms around me, telling me it’s going to be OK.

As I sat there on the bathroom floor, dripping wet from the shower, naked, with her arms wrapped around me, I felt so hopeless, like nothing was possible.

It was then that I realized the depression is really coming back. The euphoria of the initial off-the-meds that my system went through is wearing off. The debilitating thoughts are returning.

As I calmed down and managed to get myself dressed, I told myself there’s no way I’m going back on meds. I told myself there’s no way I’m going to traumatize my kids for life either.

I drove my kids to school. I got a soy, no water chai and returned home. I sat down at my keyboard and was able to write. This is a good thing.

And I will dance.

I have these things still today.