FOREIGN COUNTRY

Perhaps she did now, in this foreign country, because it was November here too or because she sensed how vulnerable people are when they have no idea what to do next, how to move forward or back.

— Gerbrand Bakker, Ten White Geese

Although this is not precisely how I am feeling, it isn't all that far off. In this current mental state, I don't always know what to do, but I do know that I need to do something, and so I do. Big or small steps. Upstairs or downstairs. Inside or outside. Change the venue, the perspective. Move toward some calm and comfort. Walk a few steps, get the blood flowing.

Much much much later ...

As Sandy Denny so trenchantly observed, "Who knows where the time goes?"

It has been an enormously difficult three or four weeks. I am not even sure when the dementors took over. Stresses in all the major stress areas. And hope can be a scarce commodity. 

Incrementally, I am getting better. I could tell you more about it, but pain isn't something you really want to share. (Okay, I wrote this about a week or so ago: Here’s what depression feels like: a slow, ice pick or pain around your heart and you collapse around that sliver of pain, almost deflating but more like a black hole.)

Here's some more Allie Brosh on the subject:

It’s disappointing to feel sad for no reason. Sadness can be almost pleasantly indulged when you have a way to justify it. You can listen to sad music and imagine yourself in a dramatic movie. You can gaze out a window while you’re crying and think, This is so sad I can’t even believe how sad this whole situation is. I bet even a reenactment of my sadness could bring an entire theater audience to tears.

But trying to use willpower to overcome the apathetic sort of sadness that accompanies depression is like a person with no arms trying to punch themselves until their hands grow back. A fundamental component of the plan is missing and it isn’t going to work.

It's true. What does work is sleeping, being quiet, drinking lots of water, walking, eating well, and, for me, reading. I stagger around from book to book, like a drunk looking for the one shot that will take away the pain and get blessed with oblivion.

In the midst of all of that, I forced myself down to the Sans Souci county park where I walked a bit in the winter. More of the park was open and I found an estuary-kind of thing. It was really cool. Most of the hiking was in the shade, too, so that was great. 

And then there is the comfort of cats, who aren't digging the warming weather. Okay. Let's just see if I can get back on track here. I've missed you.