Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Gray Days

Do you ever watch shows filmed a long time ago, and notice the colors seem muted? Especially drama series filmed in the seventies. For some reason, they always appear to me as if they've been color washed with a bucket of light gray, slightly grainy, paint. Transparent paint, but still.

That's the visual I conjure whenever I try to describe how my depression feels. Some days, I feel neutral. These days are glorious. Most days, I am ever so slightly color washed in gray. And that's okay. I recognize it for what it is and keep trooping.

Other days, the weight of it all is more crushing. This especially occurs if I'm navigating my way through tragedy, and in lesser but still heavy amounts when I'm PMSing.

The death of my mother nearly crushed me. For almost a  year, I felt like I was handling it well. Then I crashed. It took six months of twice weekly to weekly to, finally, once every two week therapy sessions and a lot of prayer to pull me out of the hole. I didn't feel like bathing when I started therapy. I came a long way.

I've been feeling the blue (wait. didn't I say gray??) creep up again, ever so slightly. Don't worry - I'm still showering. I'm still having good days. It's just these moments....

This is my cross to bear. I have gifts and blessings in abundance. I have my faith, my family, my friends, and some pretty kick ass acquaintances, actually.

And a really cute dog.

So I just remind myself: this, too, shall pass.

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