Depression is like rolling a dice, you never know which side of it you’ll get. All 6 sides hold different dangers and truth be told they’re all pretty equally sucky to go through.
Side number 1 is the side in which everything feels heavy and dark and like you’re a bird drowning in the sky or a fish trying to fly in the sky; it’s the uphill, never-winning battle that we continue to fight because it’s the only way. Side number one teaches you how to stay strong and adapt.
Side number 2 is the sadness, my god that sadness, the sadness that rips through you like a tornado and leaves you shaking and scared and of course sobbing; it’s the sadness that makes you envy the drowning birds and falling fish. Side number 2 shakes the world beneath your feet but you won’t fall, you’ll go through a bunch of kleenexes and need a helluva lot of comfort food and romantic comedies but the tears’ll stop and you’ll be able to breathe again.
Side number 3 is the lazy side, the side where your body fuses to the mattress and your head is just not cooperating today; the side where you just want the world to go away so you can sleep it all away and wake up in 10 years time. But despite side number 3’s best efforts, get up, take the dog for a walk, grab a cup of coffee, enjoy some sunlight even if it’s only for 10 minutes - use all the energy you’ve got that day just to defy it.
Side number four is the rage, the anger that boils up inside the sadness, the nostalgia, the madness of being trapped in this illness; the anger that leads to cutting, drinking, smoking dope, writing angry poems, cursing, and hurting the people we love. Side number four is painful and you’ll regret it tomorrow but you’ve got to remember that, although it’s no excuse, it wasn’t you talking - it was the depression. The real, mood-altering, mind-controlling, life-damaging illness. Forgive yourself for the snide comments or cynical retorts.
Side 5 is the side no one talks about, for reasons unknown to me, because it is perhaps the hardest side to face when you get it, it’s the darkness - the point in which you just wanna curl up and let it all collapse around you because then at least it would end, it’s the side that makes you feel indifferent, numb, and guilty for not seeing any light because there’s always a light right? Someone always has it worse and here you are hiding underneath your covers like some damsel in distress, wrong - side five is the hardest because it makes you feel bad about your illness, guilty about it and it makes you question its validity, which for the record is very fucking valid.
Side number six is the side which everyone doesn’t understand, it’s the unknown or the other side; this is the side where you’ll be perfectly content, laughing with friends over ice cream or something equally delicious when you just stop because depressions snatched your laugh from you, when your going through your checklist for college in target and break down in the towel aisle because college is too far away and you don’t think you’ll make it, when you’re on a bus to somewhere and you see someone with scars on their arms and although you shouldn’t assume - you know where they came from and you know that pain all too well, when you watch a little kid being happy and high on life and get so goddamn down because they’ll have to face the music one day and you remember that day for you. Side 6 is all the others mixed together, at the unexpected, most unwanted times.
So yes, of course, depression’s a bitch and it’s an illness struggled with by so many in so many ways. But depression, on any given day, is the luck of the draw. Will you get a semi-survivable day? Or will you get a day with suicidal thoughts and surprise mood swings and stress out of this world? We don’t get to choose what day it’ll be, we just get to choose how we respond and how much power we go into battle with.
- We don’t get to choose when we get depressed or how, it’s chance.
Nostalgia literally means the pain from an old wound. It’s a twinge in your heart far more powerful than memory alone. This device isn’t a spaceship, it’s a time machine. It goes backwards and forwards…it takes us to a place where we ache to go again. It’s not called the wheel, it’s called the carousel. It lets us travel the way a child travels – around and around, and back home again, to a place where we know we are loved.
Hello friend. I’m writing to you again.
How is your life? Mine is splendid.
I know it’s s long time since my last letter. Even longer since our last real talk. I know, I’ve been busy. Maybe you have been too. Life is hectic. It always is. Do you still remember that summer after high school? It was a different time back then. Easier. I know, it’s never good to be too nostalgic. It’s almost as if you get stuck within the memories, believing that it was better before. You know, when we were younger and the whole world was lying big and never ending at our feet. We were kings and queens, just waiting for our turn to rule the world. There was a time when I wished for us to be the only ones who ruled the world. You and me,together, against the world. How naive. It was a marvelous summer. So many things that ended. So many new beginnings. The last breath before adulthood. That last summer of childhood. Nothing was ever the same. Afterwards. I never understood what happened exactly. But one day, something new had begun. And there was no turning back. We lost ourselves there, a little. But at the same time, we found pieces we never knew existed. Pieces of ourselves that told us another story. A new story. A new beginning. I’m sorry. I did it again. I lost myself. I lost myself in the past. We shouldn’t delve in the things that have been, the things in the past. I know that. I’m sorry.
If you ever driving past here again sometime,why not stop, saying hello. You know where I live. I never left. It’s nice here. It’s nice for the kids. Not mine. But so I’ve heard. Do you have kids? I remember you wanted two of them. One boy. One girl. So you could raise them equally. That was your plan. I was never good with plans. Not my thing. But your plans made you leave, didn’t they? You left me behind. It didn’t occur to you, did it? I…
If you had asked. I would had followed. But you didn’t. You just left. You find a new piece. A piece that didn’t need me. Not like before, anyway. You just got up and left. You never looked back, did you? Never again. But you know. I will keep on writing. One day, I will get an answer. An acknowledgment. A sign. That’s why, I keep on trying. Reaching out. Even if every letter comes back- as Elvis once so elegantly put it; ‘return to sender, address unknown’.
But I believe, whenever you decide to reconnect, it would be like we never parted. At all. Like it was just another hot summer evening. And you and I was standing alone but together, against the world.
Mad Men favorite episodes | 1x13 The Wheel Don: Teddy told me that in Greek, nostalgia literally means the pain from an old wound. It’s a twinge in your heart, far more powerful than memory alone. This device isn’t a space ship, it’s a time machine. It goes backwards, forwards. It takes us to a place where we ache to go again. It’s not called a wheel, it’s called a carousel. It lets us travel the way a child travels. Round and a round, and back home again. To a place where we know we are loved.