So, I'm not a psychologist. I'm not a therapist either. I'm not one of the countless people who come to tell the world how to get out of their despair in 5/9/...X... steps.
I'm just one of those souls who have struggled for a long time with depression. I've sunk in it, drowned in it - I felt it oozing out of my pores. I've lived for years in a bleak world, devoid of feelings, emotions - at its worst, depression had taken the will to live out of me. It had become difficult to breathe, to drag my feet to the kitchen and get myself a cup of coffee. I simply didn't see the point in living anymore - not even the reality of having a daughter would work as an incentive. (Both me and my girl have been very lucky with my family - they took her with them during every school holiday and they let me do my thing, hoping I would rest, relax and get some inner strength).
Sarcasm and dark humor, reading all sorts of weird literature was my way of coping with having to be alive - when I wasn't doing yoga. Not the bend and twist your body kind of yoga, but the type of meditation which helped my introspection process (maybe you've heard of Ramana Maharishi and Swami Shivananda?) and allowed me to get to the bottom of my twisted mental patterns in order to make positive changes.
I have to add, medication was out of the question for me - most of the meds have nasty side effects and they don't solve the problem anyway. I could have used herbal remedies, I suppose - they work, in time. But I didn't - I only wore my crystals (amethyst, transparent quartz, grey quartz), as usual; I did my meditations and listened to a lot of music.
All that time I've lived in a certain isolation from the rest of the world. Only one of my friends knew what was happening to me, because I was actually able to share my experiences with her. My family was worried, so I kept most of my life a secret from them, though they did feel there was something very wrong with me. I just couldn't talk.
For weeks I wouldn't even turn my phone on - what for? It felt like the words were taken away from me and my throat couldn't utter a sound. I was on mute.
Bottom line is, after a lot of heavy work, I got out of depression. All my efforts have been successful.
Then a long period of healing started - about a year and a half - which brought along a certain kind of emotional pain, like the pain of a torn tissue knitting itself back together again. I felt new, pure energies feeding my soul, improving it. It hurt because old wounds were cleansed and healed. In time, the black hole that had seemed to have taken a permanent residence in my chest, has dissapeared.
For a long time I was tired to the bone and all I could do, most of the day, was to sleep. It was a deep sleep, devoid of dreams. I was home alone, I worked at my own pace, I didn't feel pressured by the resposibility of having to take care of my daughter, so I could sleep whenever. It was a necessity.
I was amazed to discover that for days I would feel good, I'd feel goodness flooding me, gently, but steadily. I felt peace feeding my soul. I felt like spring was blooming within me - a gentle spring, filled with sun and peace. Sometimes I'd cry because of the intensity of that feeling.
I got in touch with my creativity, with the sides of my personality that had been ignored or neglected for years; I've learnt to listen better to my soul and to do what felt right for my being as a whole.
There's been a sort of realignment between my creative energy, my emotions, my mind and my soul. There's harmony and balance. There's unity.
I have to say I feel vulnerable, though at the same time I feel there's a strength in me that's quiet, but unbreakable. For quite some time now I've felt I was ready to open up to the world, let people in (up to a point though :D).
As we've moved to my hometown, my family has been in touch a lot, and visits have been planned. I can't say I am very relaxed about it - as I still feel, in a certain way, remote. Maybe I will always be like that, right now I couldn't say.
However, I am interested in spending more time with them; we (my daughter and I) have visited my parents and one of my sisters has come to see us twice. It felt good, though a bit invasive.
I've also met new people; I try - at my own pace - to open up and maybe make new friends - in time. It may sound weird, but I feel fragile.
I have no problems doing the necessary stuff to help my daughter fit in at the new school, going with her to various doctors and other such things.
The problem is opening up to those people who want to get to know me. Whew, even writing about it is tough. It hurts, in some way.
Anyway. What I want to say is - nobody can help a depressed person unless he/she wants to heal. And that help can go only so far. Most of the work - I'm telling from personal experience - must be done by themselves.
The best help I got was my family taking care of my daughter while I was facing my own demons.
The reason I refused to give up is a simple, bitter one: I was perfectly aware of the fact that losing the battle was not an option. As I have understood the law of karma, the law of resonance and the basics about how life works, I know one can't evade one's own life lessons. They will repeat themselves until you learn, whether you like it or not - within the same lifetime or during several - as long as it takes. As I felt tired to the bone of this life, I thought "no way I'm gonna let this miserable stage of my life repeat itself over and over - I am stronger than that, I am better than that."
I am curious. I feel a new stage of life opening itself to me. I feel alive.
(image source: pinterest.com)
