While I was working earlier in the week I thought about an analogy that I've heard someone else mention before. The "coming back to myself" after a long spurt of depression or a dark depressive spurt.
I dont' go swimming often. I'm not a great swimmer by any means. When I do go swimming, I sometimes will dive too deep. I will find myself panicked for a few seconds. As I (or you) push yourself to the top of the water, I think I'm never going to make it. This is the end. My body is burning and screaming over and over and the end (or top) is so far away. I am certain that I am no longer able to go any longer. And then....just like that...I manage to burst out of the water.
The first gasp of air is refresting, because it’s such a relief. I can’t believe it’s real, and I’m left drinking in as much oxygen as I can because I’m afraid it will run out.
That first breath of air is the closest I can get to explaining what it’s like when my depression lifts. Constantly gasping for a breathe.
I cannot fight the demons in my head without the help of medication and a therapist. I am unable to move forward without leaning on others for a bit of help. I will never be that strong person I once was before my children were born.
Over the last week, this realization became very clear to me. A very depressing realization.
Do you ever look at your life and think to yourself "how the hell did I get to this point? How the hell did I get to this point when I used to be so strong? How....I could get so mentally unstable at times when I was once so strong?"
Yeah! Me, too!
I've started/stopped several more "ramblings". I can't bring myself to post it tonight. It is nearly 11pm and I have a child who needs to go to bed before my husband comes home and gets pissy bc the kid is still up.