Some thoughts I have about depression.
I'm no stranger to depression, because I have been a victim of it most of my life. It's the hardest thing to overcome. Let me describe it to you. It starts off as something small, not really even with a whole lot of substance. It is easy to stop if you can now! It don't seem to be all that important to you at the time. Depression is a feeder, like an emotional vampire. Elusive at first with no coincidence, a cloaked villain set on your destruction.
Small things will come up, acting as a snowball effect. Nothing serious has happened at this point, but the entity grows stronger. You’re not paying attention yet, and then an event unfolds. This still could be minor, but is escalated in your mind. It is building and you are keeping score. This beast is feeding now and you don't even realize that. You feel sorry for yourself, wondering what you did wrong. You start reliving old time events that you felt bad about. The sadness gives you a false sense of comfort because you thought you overcame that. Have you! If not you are counting this, and adding to your score.
At this time you are entering full blown depression, the beast is growing strong by devouring your despair. Your mind is like a puddle of ooze. Something inside loves this, and drives you deeper. It is the beast, the feeder of darkness. This love becomes insane; it now wants to destroy you. Will you let it; this is your last chance. If you continue feeding it, you will be dead, usually by your own hand. Many depressive people succumb at this point.
Or, a voice, one simple word even can stop this. One moment of clarity you can realize what is happening. The voice could come from within. It could come from a stranger, as a spark of light. Chances are it will not come from a love one, only because the beast has twisted most of your relationships by thinking they don't really care. They do, but at this point they can't contact you because you are blinded by despair.
Once you see the feeder, the beast for what it is. It's the stealer of your soul, and your being. Being whatever you are, that is your being! You are loved, and then you will find out you gave everyone a scare. Not that you meant to, but were under a spell of depression and didn't know that. Coming out you see the love that was always there for you. You are okay for now, unless you let the cycle begin again. The sooner you realize what is happening the sooner you can stop it.
Unfortunately some love the feeling; they love the attention of others. When the loved ones begin to tire, or believe who they’re watching seem okay, say something comes along and takes their attention away for whatever purpose. Once left alone to go back into their heads, the depressed will go through the same process as above. I don't believe antidepressants will help these people that love the depression and attention of others who care. This is a dangerous combination in my opinion. The reason why is, the pills will give the person that cares a sense of, “they’re okay”. They may let their guard down. The depressed person will be told in their mind by the beast, they are alone and no one cares. The cycle repeats.
What I will tell you about next is a story of my latest bout, and what was going on in my mind at the time when I was depressed. Much more happened at the time, but this came through. Actually the following was written first.
I was in a bought of depression wondering if anyone would hear. It seemed whenever I needed someone they were never to be found. I try to be good to others and help them all I can. They used me up, not that I minded. I wanted to help and never expected anything in return. That is me.
I came to crisis point, and find myself reaching out for help to find no one wants to listen to my story. For whatever reason, life can give many. I was alone. Support had not been part of my life because I knew and taught people how to get though these things. But what I had told them couldn't help me. I could help others to see the light during their darkest days. Who would be there for mine?
I can't really explain what I will tell you next. Just listen to three lifetime experiences. These all came to me when I was alone, and needed help. Did they? You'll be the judge.
I awakened to a new sunrise, and birds are singing in the sky. All of nature is alive with joy. It is a perfect day. The moon rises in the sky with all its brilliance. It is so bright you can see all the features on it shown without aide of a telescope.
The next morning the flowers are blooming in the light. The angels start singing instead of the birds, they were crying out a warning. It’s as if the world stood still in this moment. Darkness came during the day, taking everyone by surprise. As it comes forth it grabs many, all so many more then I could imagine. Though what it was really seeking out, were not those that were weak, the ones who accepted the darkness as light. It really wanted the strong. We were few, and separated, and I was alone. I know that darkness can never survive in the light, and must flee from me into the shadows. So I must burn my light into the darkness as long as I can. If even I’m all that is left, I will fight it alone if I must. In distress I sent a call, but no one seems to be answering. It may end up just me against the darkness; will it be capable enough to extinguish my light? Odds didn't seem in my favor at this point. I ask please send me help now.
This was the end of this vision. I'm not sure how it ended. There was another vision, so probably not all that well.
The next one involves me being in another battle. In this war, many battles were fought as I came to the last one. This will be the story that I will tell.
I was fighting along with my comrades. We were outnumbered, we fought valiantly, but we knew we couldn’t win this one. By fighting with all of our heart we could at least slow them down. Maybe later others would be able to stop them. We were the front line. It raged on for hours, but came down to minutes. In the face of defeat I swung my sword wildly; the blood was running into my eyes, blinding me. All I heard was the cries of people dying. The stench of battle filled my nostrils. I began thrusting my sword at the enemy blindly, spinning in circles. I would protect my space to my last breath. The breath of death is now upon me, and I seemed to have failed. I wonder, have I been beaten, as I fall to my knees. I hang my head low for the sword. Send help now. Will my soul float away? This one didn't seem to end well, but who am I to judge.
Now for the last one, I'm not sure how it will end but....
I have tried to clear myself in this life. I try to make amends to those I have hurt. I try not to hurt others in anyway. I still fail at that, sometimes my words have become swords, wounding others. My intentions have always been for the best. I try to see the best in everyone. I can help most people. I can heal some. I have learned this, but other people are afraid to let me help. I can't blame them because I'm not perfect. I fail, here and there. That's unfortunately what is remembered by others.
When I look over my shoulders I see a wake of chaos, broken families, people I've hurt no matter how unintentional it was. I have always tried to do my best, sometimes that just isn't good enough anymore.
I have tried to make myself better by helping others, just because I’m a mister fix it. I can solve other people’s problems, and heal. The problem is that I can't do that for myself. The giving of me has a cost, to myself. I was warned not to clean when I first learned this by a friend. Now I know how much she was looking after me in my innocence. I don't really want to explain it any further then its absorbing bad energy from anything, such as people, or places. This I have done. Getting rid of it was a problem. Luckily I had her to help, and I will stop here. This is not what I have in mind for this story.
I have had my share of bad and good relationships. I feel that my love is broken in some way. I feel that I can give love, but it don’t seem to be accepted by others. No matter how hard I try; to get it in return has been a problem. I know it must be me because it can't be everyone else. I must be giving the wrong vibe off, and so I know it just has to be me.
I carry the worries of the world on my shoulders. By that I mean I want to help everyone, and I can't. Sometimes I have to not care anymore, just to save myself. This never seems to work because it makes me feel so guilty. I feel that I can’t do anything about it though. All I can do is shine my light.
I have been trying to stay positive. As my strength is being drained, I am positive I cannot do it on my own. I thought I could sustain it on my own, but alone I am dying here. I can only hang on for so much longer without reinforcements. Send help soon. I need a pick me up. Where is my support? Why have you forsaken me again once more? I am going to die on my own cross soon. Where is my soldier? (This refers to my story “The guard”). Just do it, please just end it now. My shoulders and neck ache from the weight of my cross.
These all come from different level of understanding, but are very much the same. Did the depression win in all these stories, I certainly hope not. Although a depression in clinical terms wouldn't seem to necessarily apply here, I was as you can tell by the stories themselves. Did I demand too much of myself throughout these experiences? None of stories told were provided an ending.
Maybe my spark can save the one looking for the light. The soldier can save me from the cross that I bare, and the light can give compassion to a soldier. Just maybe these lives are all intertwined, all happening at the same time. I guess they were all for me to write. What will I choose? Love and hope in life, or the beast of depression where all odds are against you.
I'm sure there may be more bouts of depression in my future. Hopefully by understanding it, maybe I can cut it off before it gets to a full blown state of mind. Thanks to all my friends who have stood beside me in my depressions, some not even knowing they were helping. Others had a big impact, and you know who you are. Some by email, some are fans. Family, other friends, and anyone else who cared enough to listen. Prayers can be answered, and a kind therapist don’t hurt either.