My parents died in 2017, following a rapid decline in health the year prior. Maybe someday I'll tell you more about that. But for now, I'll tell you that the resulting depression has been debilitating.
I pull my legs jerkily through the thick and murky air as I stare forward, eyes unfocused with a definite sadness behind them. The cloud has been raining down over me in a deluge today-like most days-however it never shrinks in size or changes from the darkest shade of grey. Thick and bulbous with lobes like a mammatus cloud, ever present, ever drenching the world around me. Through a haze I see objects, people, they move out of my way as they notice my struggled gait. I'm at Target, I'm with my sons. I'm trying.
I cried. Oh I cried like I have never cried before. Day, night, at work and at home, even in public sometimes...dramatically I cried. I wailed. I screamed. In the shower, on my bedroom floor, on the bathroom floor, at my desk at work, driving in my car. That kind of pain wasn't something you can just set aside and deal with at a better time. I have never felt that kind of pain.
I have worked at concealing the depression. It mostly involves not dealing with it. Sometimes I wake and my first literal thought is 'I don't want to be here'. I stare up at the ceiling, listening to the thought on repeat. Eventually I shove myself out of bed, tilt my head to look at the cloud above me, and hope that the storms won't be so bad today. Maybe someday it will be white with the silver lining. I know my kids should be that silver lining. Right now it's a light stone hue and the slightest sliver of silver lining is easily swallowed most days.
