posted in: chronic illness | 0
Shadow Selves © 2013 Jane Waterman
Shadow Selves © 2013 Jane Waterman

How strange the nature of the beast. You do all you can to combat it, but at times, all its victories pile up against the stanchions. Once more you feel adrift, treading water in the deepest shadows. Spoke to one daughter at lunch, who seems to be fighting her own battle to stay afloat. Have only talked to the other daughter sparingly, to protect her (to protect me – who can tell?) from those shadows close at hand. It’s not often I invade her space, but going into her room to pick up my spare computer, I was overwhelmed by the absolute chaos in those twelve by twelve by twelve cubic feet.

Is that why I have to strive to keep order around me, for fear of getting buried in a mess of my own making?

Sitting here at my desk, I have to conclude that might be so. As swiftly as a twister descending, depression comes out of the dark clouds, blanketing everything not in violent chaos, but leaden darkness. I know I have to keep moving. I have to do things to try to break this cycle.

It whispers sordid secrets about the meaningless of life and existence into my ear.

That is not the answer, I have to tell myself again and again, until I believe it. I have been here before, so many times. I will rise again, I will transcend.

Even after the wildest storm, light always comes. Always.


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