Jun. 23rd, 2013

When I started dating my husband, well, first he was some guy I met at Burning Man, he didn’t know much about depression. I had to explain it and wasn’t really sure how. So I came up with this metaphor of living in a building. Most people live content, basically happy lives on the 8th floor. The best I could afford was the 6th and I spent a lot of time on the 1st or 2nd.

And sometimes when I would crash into a cycle of depression it is like going down the stairs a few, or many, floors. Sometimes it is a slow spiral staircase down. Sometimes I run. Sometimes I take the express elevator down, and sometimes, when life really takes a bite and my depression would become super severe, I swan dive out the window hitting the pavement in what is just a wreck of my person. (This is a metaphor, this is only a metaphor, I have never physically jumped out of a window that was higher than one on the ground floor.)

From then on we gauge my moods by what floor I am on and/or if I’m on the staircase or elevator going up or down. It’s a convenient metaphor for us.

I got to the 18th floor once. Our first Christmas and New Year’s he took me to Hawaii (I’m not a fan of Christmas) and we went snorkelling. OH MY GOD THE FISHIES! THE PRETTY PRETTY FISHIES! I was so happy there, just floating along with all the fishies.

Anyway, with the help of modern pharmacology and a psychiatrist and group therapy I’d been starting to hold my own. Live on floor 8, sometimes 10, on a regular basis.

And then I took a swan dive down. Out of the blue, out of nowhere, I crashed. For what it’s worth, I’m currently around floor 5-6, somewhere wandering up and down the stairs. And today I made it to floor 8 for a while. I’m not on the express elevator up, but I’m on my way up. That’s a good thing.

“i'm going to go ahead boldly because a little bird told me
that jumping is easy, that falling is fun
up until you hit the sidewalk, shivering, stunned”

— Ani Difranco, Swandive

The bird lies, it’s not fun to fall with no safety in place.


of depression

It came out of the blue
the crash and burn
the tears and fears
the self-loathing

sometimes it ramps up   s l o w l y
i can feel it worming its way into my serotonin

but this time i was well
i was healthy
i believed in myself
and my love and my mothering

and then out of the blue 
i dropped 8 stories on the express elevator
i jumped headlong into the ocean 
and forgot to check for sharks

just like that my smile turned saccharine
and my words “fine, i’m ok” became lies
my self-opinion did a 180 and i don’t care for myself
my son is awesome
my husband is awesome
	but i stand alone in a whirlwind of depression and doubt

i dropped
8 stories in the building of my mood
one stair at a time I’m trying to climb back up
one
  stair
    at
      a
        time
          i
            climb
	      until
                i
                  reach
                    okay
                      again

This has been an entry for Live Journal Idol Exhibit B Week 6 Topic Out of the Blue. For more creative and interesting entries on this and three other topics go to http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/666309.html.

Voting goes up Monday night and I will add a link then. and a video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LOPqeQRNeZM

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