Friday, 19 August 2011

When Even The Abyss Does Not Look Back

This was me yesterday: breaking at last, the dam breached, the walls down, critical mass attained. Even the most impervious of us have our limits. (I feel very fortunate that, like poor Brennan over there, I have a "Booth" in my life willing to be there for me; though it wasn't until later, when I was more myself again, that I realized the scenes were so very similar.) At least some of the horrible, grinding sorrow washed away with the flood of tears, although I'm not sure the hollowness of the aftermath feels all that much better. It's not like this is a particularly new sensation for me, but in all my years I've never learned to like it. I will say emphatically, however, that it is rather better not to have to writhe through it alone.

So there it is. According to the Holmes and Rahe stress scale, I should probably be dead by now (and that is only a slight exaggeration). I am not dead, and luckily for me I have dealt with situational depression, intermittent dysthymia, in the past and know that it does pass eventually. It's just the waiting for it to pass that is the annoyance. A lot has gone on in the past year, and in the year before that, and the year before that--a constant accumulation of stressors with very little downtime, and me with few reserves left from which to recharge. I suppose I should be surprised that it took this long for me to collapse in a sullen, sodden, weeping, self-loathing, self-recriminatory, heart-crushed heap! (Note: I got better.) Hell, I've lost my oldest cat, my job, my free time, my house, my land, along with various intangibles that it would be far too melodramatic for me to go into, and that's just in the past 12 months, never mind what came before; wouldn't a normal person have long before now gone completely round the bend? But as usual, I'm down but not entirely out.

I'm trained in psychology, but that doesn't necessarily mean I can apply it to myself; like reading Tarot for yourself, it's all to easy to interpret things as you want them to be rather than as they truly are. You can run and run, but eventually you have to stop running. Your world may turn upside down, but it will eventually right itself. It's said that it takes the brain three days to adjust; maybe it takes the heart a little longer.

1 comment:

  1. You don't walk in the dark alone, sister mine. Sending you lots of love and thoughts of happy nights frolicking on Crescent Beach. <3