My whole life

  Photo of me taken by Di Mackey. Do not cut, copy, paste, or steal. 

Another day at home. Another day in the life. Another day.

There is nothing in the kitchen that's going to lessen the pain or fill the emptiness. Food is neither comfort nor cure. This is what I tell myself as I close the refrigerator and pantry doors, step back, wander into another room.

There is nothing in my inbox, on Facebook, or hiding in my blog stat counter that will help either. I stop clicking, refreshing, surfing. I turn the monitor off.

The bed, half slept in and half unmade, will be half empty again tonight--and tomorrow night, and the night after that, and the night after that, and onward into the summer, again in the fall.

I tell myself it is not a half life.  I tell myself it is a whole life. I ask myself if that is a half lie.

My whole life, I have tried to outrun the sadness that stalks me, but nothing I do will earn me a one-way ticket out of the darkness. I was born with a lifetime supply of roundtrip tickets. I go away, I come back. The darkness welcomes me home. The light pretends I'm never leaving.

Half happy. Half sad. 

This is the balance board I stand on. This is my core work. This is what strengthens me and exhausts me and makes me who I am. This is my wobbly constant.

It is not my fault. It is my fate.

It is a half life.

It is a whole life.

It is the only life I have.

To accept. To appreciate. To live.

Comments

[Juli]

I've been thinking about a similar thing. Not a half life. More, I'm realizing I am attracted to sadness. I try to balance it out--to be a healthy person--but I am happiest when I am sad.

[V-Grrrl]

I'm not attracted to sadness. I am a grrrl on a beach having a great time who gets hit by a rogue wave and caught in an undertow.

[Kim Nelson]

Strong, honest piece, here, V. I, too, was born predisposed to depression. At 51, I feel like I have tamed it, mastered it, made peace with it; but I never confuse that with the notion that I have conquered or destroyed it. The Black Dog is my companion, but he is better trained. I can make him heel.

[V-Grrrl]

Kim, I am finally to a place where I can acknowledge this is an inalterable fact of my life. Now I'm working on appreciating the ways depression enhances who I am. I know that sounds twisted, but I think my experiences with it have made me more empathetic and compassionate. It's also taught me how important it is to have someone to just be with you when you're in a dark place.

[Lisa]

While I don't have a Black Dog myself (fabulous metaphor Kim) I still know him a bit. He's the mostly constant companion of someone I dearly love. I've read books, but your perspective V-Grrrl, helps me. And far from twisted, I think the way you look at it is healthy. You're right about the empathy and compassion. Thank you for sharing.

[LilianP]

Beautiful

[apathy lounge]

This only proves how strong you are.

[Susan Raihala]

Wonderful, beautiful post. And reframing a negative into a positive is a very healthy thing to do.

[Chrisy]

So honest. I want to look away... because I don't want to see my own struggles. And your new profile picture is fantastic. That hair! Gorgeous.