Like most people, I make it a policy to never cry in public, or in front of anyone at all, but there I am on the subway, headphones in, listening to “Somewhere Only We Know.” And not even the original version by Keane, but the medley by the tv contestants on the Sing-Off, an a capella competition. When Moi comes in singing:
“I came across a fallen tree, I felt the branches of it looking at me”
in his deeply stirring voice, the bottom of my eyes droop heavy with tears. I just feel so bad for that tree. By the time he gets to the part of the chorus:
“Oh simple thing, where have you gone?
I’m getting old and I need somethin to rely on.
So tell me when, you’re gonna let me in,
I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin.”
I am in full blown sobs now. I am sniffling and crying, paying no attention to the fact that I have become the crazy person on the subway. The one that usually leads to me to get up and move to another part of the car. But I can’t help myself. The melody is reverbarating off me, putting to words this unspoken melancholy that I’ve been feeling. “I’m getting old and I need something to rely on.” The tumultuousness of life frightens me. My depression frightens me. My mood is so precarious, hinging on such unworthy things, that I can never really predict how I am going to feel at any given time, or on any given day. I want some core faith to rely on, something that I never question or consider. Something that I know to always be true. I need a fixed point to stare at when I feel myself tossing and turning.
I get these sometimes, these bouts of soul-crushing depression. The worst part of these dark periods, even more than crying in public, is the feeling that they are never going to end. I start to believe that I will feel this way the rest of my life. That I will never smile genuinely or wholeheartedly ever again. And if that’s the case, if this heaviness in my chest is never going to go away, than I don’t want to go on. I can’t bear to feel this way forever. I’m just not strong enough.
The subway pulls up to my stop and I shuffle up the stairs with all the other people. It’s raining out and they all pull out their umbrellas. I can’t be bothered. I want to absorb this pathetic fallacy as much as possible. I step out into the rain and let the cold drops trickle down me. My coat becomes damp and my flattened hair sticks to my cheeks. As cheesy as it is, after a couple of minutes, I can’t tell where the rain has stopped and my tears have begun. And in that way, I’m no longer crying in public, really. I sit on a bench outside the subway, taking a moment longer to cloak my sadness in rain. How long can this go on? How long can I feel this way? “I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin.” I feel like I need a fresh page, a rebrith, a Wendy Spring and I don’t know how to do it. I don’t know where to begin.
My phone rings and I force myself to answer it.
“This feeling is going to pass,” my friend promises, “it always passes.”
I know she’s right, even if I don’t feel it. I have to believe it. Soaked to the bone, I get up and begin walking home.
I have something to rely on: this too shall pass.
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Beautiful.
At one point in my life I went belly-up in those dark shades and it truly does feel like it will ever end. I remember one time in particular and the spark of hope that pulled me through. I had been dating a man with stage four prostate cancer and he was just going to move in with me and my kids. We were going to see it through together, but the prospect of him dying was overwhelming. On the way home from dropping my three girls off at different schools I started to cry until I couldn’t see the road in front of me, but I didn’t care. I had no interest in living if this was to be my life. Then the light changed and I pulled to a stop. My head hit the steering wheel and I lay there for a few minutes sobbing. When I pulled my head up, the light had changed and cars were honking beside me, but there was a woman in the car just opposite mine who had waited until she got my attention to mouth a simple “I’m so sorry.” It was a small gesture, but it meant so much. For some reason those three little words spoken by a stranger…at the exact time my world was crumbling, strengthened me to continue. Quick follow up…it did get better and it feels like I got a new lease on life. Hang in there. You will be on the other side of this bad period too.
Thank you so much for sharing with me such a moving anecdote Annie. Your comment is my woman in the opposite car. Thank you.
One of the worst things about depression is that, when you’re in it, you can’t imagine that it will ever end. Thanks so much for expressing what it can be like.
Ugh, it really is the worst part of it! I try and tell myself that the very fact that I am worrying about whether or not the depression will end is a sure sign that I haven’t lost it completely. Yet…
Your writing is from the soul.
I too have lived in a black hole and have dug my way out, clawing out by my finger tips. And you will do that too. I know you will.
The bright light is within you, you just have to zero in on it.
It is a blessing to see an old tree and feel compassion, sorrow, but it is also your responsibility , being who you are, to also look at the new spouts and be in awe of their beginning to grow and survive.
You are stronger than you think, otherwise you could never have written this article.
Living with difference, makes us tolerant, compassionate and loving. It may be easier to live without these feeling, but tapping them will help you grow and thrive.
Brave girl, beautiful writing.
What a beautifl analogy MH! I really love that. Thank you so much for taking the time to write something so touching, that it feels like a wonderfully, virtual hug. I really do hope there is a bright light somewhere in here. Thank you for so eloquently pointing out the other, positive, side of these emotions. If tapping into some difficult feelings helps one to grow, than I expect to be trying out for the WNBA next year! They could really use you as a cheerleader!
I know exactly how you feel. I was in what I call my dark place this time last year. I have my days when I feel sad but not in the dark place. The holidays do it to me. I dont have any use for them and they depress me. I am so much better this year. I have made a point to see something positive every day. There is always a silver lining somewhere. Even if its in someone elses moment. I dug my way out of it last year sometime after the first of the year. Until then I was a zombie…it was the second time in 2010 that I was a zombie. The first time was when I got divorced and my sister in law died all within a week of each other. I tried to muddle through, all the while trying to finish schooling for my change in career. I was a zombie from April thru July. Came out of it and was a zombie again November thru sometime in January. I made pictures from dollar store picture frames with sayings to help me realize just how strong I am. I even bought metal wall hangings that say laugh and believe. You have to sometimes fake it til you make it. My motto since all this is no fear and live in the moment. I will not be scared any more….of the future, of the past of the present. I have to live life to its fullest as much as I can and live in the moment. Its a day to day process but there is always hope. We all have that fight in us, we just sometimes have to dig deep to find it.
KK,
I am so very sorry to hear about your dear sister-in-law and that you too have had to suffer through some difficult times. That you have maintained your resolve, zest and energy, though, while enduring so much is a true testament to your immense fortitude. You are so inspiring and I so appreciate you sharing such beautiful and hopeful words. Though, if someone as incredible as yourself feels like she has had to dig so deep at times to tap into her inner strength, well, I don’t know where that leaves someone like me! I might be digging my way to China then! I think you are absolutely right in your take on things: sometimes you just have to fake it until you make it. Thank you so much for reminding me of that.
And I am with you on the holidays! They are totally seratonin inhibitors. Let me know if you would like to get together, crack open a bottle of wine, and have our own anti-holiday party this year!!!!
I don’t know if you realize this, but you are inspiring all of us. Even as you are expressing your eloquent (and believe me, a better description of the greyness that is depression have never been written) and totally heart-felt deep inner feelings, you still find the strength to lift and encourage others. You are remarkable. An I’m so glad to be your blog-friend and be able to learn from your example.
So good to know that I am not alone in the darkness of depression. Hang on to the Truth, This too shall pass.
Elizabeth 🙂