That Feeling Of Being Lost #MondayMusing

I downloaded an audio book today- ‘Eat Pray Love’ by Elizabeth Gilbert read by the author herself. I listened to the first part, pausing at times to imbibe the meaning, mulling over the effect, and reveling in the author’s beautiful voice. She talks about her faith in the divine, her prayers, her failing marriage, tough days in life, and her journey to healing and her renewed belief.

She was depressed in her marriage. She didn’t want to have a baby. She would sob endlessly crouched on her bathroom floor in the middle of the night, repeating endlessly to herself, ‘I don’t want to be married anymore. I don’t want to have a baby.’

It had me thinking.

Depression comes in the same way- it breaks you apart- it breaks your core. It drains you of all hope. It makes you feel helpless, extremely vulnerable; makes you want to escape this wretched feeling somehow, but you have no way out. You know your responses to certain situations are not normal, you know your sobbing is not normal, rather crazy. But you can’t seem to explain anyone this heart-wrenching feeling, as you yourself can’t point out the reasons behind it. Darkness swallows you, and you can do nothing. You pray, you wait, still nothing helps. At these times, you just need one soul, one person, to understand you- to not dismiss your fears as being unreasonable, but hold you while you tremble horribly and shiver and cry your heart out.

Depression is more than we know, or we can imagine. Only those who have gone through it know it. Only those who have healed can talk about it- the experiences tragic and melancholic. I have gone through it, a thankfully short period of time and I would never ever want to feel that way again. The fear of abandonment was so huge; any silly thing could make me snap. The fear of being left behind left alone by my friends. It’s such a situation, you hold on to anything that makes you feel sane and better. I am very grateful to not have an addiction to anything harmful during that period of time. Talking about it feels like I have come a long way from it.

I would cry with the slightest trigger. Sob and sob till I couldn’t breathe anymore. It was as if I was searching for reasons to cry and weep endlessly. It was sad, almost tragic. I was not myself. I wanted a tight hug every day as reassurance that whatever happens, I won’t be alone. But the biggest problem was I never shared my heart, my feelings because I didn't want to bother anyone. What if they got irritated with me and actually left me? Insecurity was at its peak, and I felt like the empty shell, fearing I would vanish into some bottomless pit. 'This too shall pass' didn't help. I said 'I'm fine' when I wanted to shout 'Help me!'.

Now that I don’t suffer anymore, I seek knowledge. Just to know that you are depressed is the first step towards healing. I read blogs and articles about it, just to be able to recognize it if at all I or anyone dear to me shows signs. Depression is an illness, not a choice. 


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