Smile!  Turn that frown upside down!  Walk on the sunny side of the street!  If only it were that easy.  Those of us who suffer from depression know how futile such advice is when the darkness settles in for what always seems to be an interminable amount of time.  We want to smile.  We want to count our blessings.  We want to be grateful.  We are ashamed that we see life as helpless and hopeless and hardly worth living when others have much more difficult lives than we.  I have often found it quite unfair that the most caring, most generous, most sensitive people seem to suffer from this affliction.   Is it the same genetic sequencing that makes one “care too much” that also makes the dark rabbit hole darker than anyone else’s? 

I have been struggling greatly in recent weeks.  It would be easy to point to situational causes, but I know from experience that it is not those causes that create such darkness.  This kind of darkness does not respond to my strong faith.  It does not respond to a beautiful day.  It does not respond to forced smiles.  It does not evaporate by serving others.  It overcomes and it envelops the soul.  It is loathe to reveal even a pinpoint of light.  Rather, the beautiful day hurts and challenges.  The forced smile feels dishonest.  Serving others only magnifies the plight of others less fortunate and a helplessness to be able to help in any lasting way.  Only faith has any hope of breaking through, so I keep the faith, faithfully.

Reading this, I suppose some of you might worry about me.  Please do not.  As my Mother says, “Thank God for the gift of tears.”  I have a wonderful doctor who keeps an eye on me, and just as I know that the situational causes are not the reason for this, I also know it will pass.   I am too creative and smart to let the depression endanger me, but I do wish it would go away and never, ever return.  I have also learned that this is an unrealistic expectation.  I can only treat it, bear it, and wait it out.  I also know from past experience that at some point I will find myself back on a mountaintop, the light shining on me so brightly I need sunglasses and a hat and a sun umbrella.  I will have no idea how I even got there, but I will look back at times like these and say, once again, “I’m never going back there again.  Not even close.”  Until the next time, of course, when it arrives without much warning.

Tonight I was blessed with a little bit of light by spending time with my dear friend Terri.  We have a dream: we would like to sell our textile art – including but not limited to quilted wall art and table coverings.  We spent a couple of hours designing some Halloween placemats and Christmas placemats to donate to the parish silent auction at the carnival.  We played with fabric and designs.   For a few hours my heart was light.  One step up the mountain.  Only one more step – at a time – to go, before I rise above the clouds into the sun again.