The rolling mist

Depression, unfathomable. Descends from the mysterious plains of my mind. There is no apparent reason for it, not today at least. Numbness, ability to apply logic escapes me. I cannot see beyond my closest horizon, the ends of my fingers. Beyond these, it seems lost and desolate. The utter despair envelopes me like the rolling mist on an eery dark lake. 

I cannot face even to tidy away mess in the house. Which is odd, as looking at the mess that surrounds me, does nothing to ease my darkness. I just want to weep, but am so numb, I cannot even manage to do this.

I'm tired, so very tired, of trying to fight this. The depression and hopelessness is like a taunting bully, hiding in the shadows, prodding and poking when it senses a morsel of normality being felt. Never happy to let me be.

I don't want to face the world, I don't want to face people. I want to be alone but don't want to be on my own. The thought of trying to be what people expect me to be petrifies me to my core. 

I look at birds flying above, and wish with all of my being that I could swap places with them. I pray that I don't see people I know today, as the energy needed to appear like me is so exhausting.

I stand in the playground of my daughter's school, waiting for her to finish, just staring into the distance, again, hoping no-one will speak to me. And yet, I start to wonder, why does no-one speak to me, is there something obviously wrong with me. You see, there strikes again another illogical thought pattern which so comfortably accompanies depression. 

I guess, at least I managed to get to school to pick my daughter up, but therein lies another problem. The battle of guilt starts to rage inside my skull. I know that if I didn't get to pick her up, the guilt that would follow as surely as night follows day, would overwhelm me. My son is off school poorly today, I am meant to be looking after him. All this has comprised of is giving him, breakfast, lunch, some drinks, and medication. I have hardly spent any time with him at all, as I just can't face any questions. This in turn is leading to more feelings of guilt, about the depression I feel, whilst trying desperately to figure out why I am depressed today in the first place.

Maybe it's the constant onset of migraines I have been suffering from for the last year. The impact on attempting to lead a normal life is huge. So in turn, means lots of time off work. This snowball of illness subsequently leads to heightened levels of stress by missing so many work days. 

It's as if the dealer of my life cards has taken an intense disliking to me. I then get struck down with a sinus infection, which leads to more time off work. I am becoming more akin to the scarlet pimpernel at work. They seek him here, they seek him there...

You're more likely to catch a glimpse of the actual pimpernel in my office than seeing me. 

I sit here knowing I should be thinking about tea for the kids, but the rusty shackles of my depression hold me back, hoping beyond hope that they're not hungry. 

The thought of going back to work on Wednesday is a bleak one. I have had to let work know that I may not be able to get in if my son is still poorly, I think a tonne of bricks would have gone down better, along with the charred and burning mess of the Hindenburg nestling amongst those bricks.

Right now, at this precise moment in time, I so want to write out my notice, so I can be free of that person whose not there much now, as it seems he's always ill. It doesn't sit comfortably with me, not doing my bit. I have no control over when or where the migraines strike, or indeed when my son is ill, but the feeling I get is one of the workplace being most unimpressed. This of course could be the demons that awake when their master, depression returns  from its hidden place, demanding they begin to fester and demand self hatred and intense lethargy. The part of my brain which has been in control for some time now, the part which displays the me people see, has been kidnapped, held to ransom, a ransom as yet unknown. Not knowing when or if it will return, as the demons and depression run amok in a riot of destruction. 

I'm petrified of these feelings, and seem to be unable to control them. 

I am having to write this as I know no other way of being able to describe how I feel, and what depression does to me. Mental health problems for the sufferer, in this case, me, can be embarrassing, I am a man, I am a father and a husband, I should be strong, capable, steadfast and reliable. Yet, I feel as weak as a new born baby. The pages on my map book of life blotted with illegible words and images, feeling completely lost. My eyes show me familiar images, that when depression was still hiding in the shadows, were normal, usual. Now, however, seem unfamiliar, doing nothing to ease the numbness that is my world. I can however feel the well side of my brain screaming from afar, shouting so hard that it is spitting with fury to hold on and not let go. To grasp on to the top of the sane mountainside with every ounce of strength, so that I could pull myself up, and sit. Look around me, focus hard on where the well side of my brain dwells. Look through the rising mountain mist, focus on the soft light trying it's best to pierce it. And with tentative, steady toddler like steps, make my way towards it.

(©) Dom Giddy 2018