Depression traps me in a cage of thought.
Thoughts about bad choices in my life; thoughts about my dead sister; thoughts about giant squid.
The worst things imaginable.
The cage hates activities and gives me an excuse to avoid doing anything I don’t want to.
Rational me cannot be heard—the cage doesn’t care how I smell.
I destroy everything in my path, a phenomenon I call “Sarah wuz here”.
The cage makes me look like a real dick.
With the cage on, lying is fine.
Lie expertly disguised.
Honesty in the final hour. No one is mad.
Wearing the cage and making plans is a big problem. On Valentine’s Day, I was supposed to go out with my husband.
It was meant to be a date at a new cafe with the love of my life—ice cream.
I hated ice cream.
We embarked on a romantic walk.
I would like this date to be over.
Not even my love (still ice cream) could cheer me up. Unlike my melting ice cream, the cage kept me frozen in place.
As we sat in the cafe, the sun began to set over the city. I sat up, and a ray of light hit me in the face.
I immediately noticed its beauty.
Then something strange happened—I started melting.
The ray of light appeared to trigger some reaction, causing my thoughts to melt out of my head and through the bars of the cage.
It was super weird.
The shock of freedom caused the cage to begin coming apart.
Awareness of my surroundings set in.
It was horrifying.
Finally seeing beyond myself, drastic action was needed.
I began by visiting an old friend.
I threw myself at the mercy of the shower.
Washing away the shame and guilt of depression is uncomfortable.
I continued cleaning “Sarah wuz here” damage.
It’s important to give yourself some credit.
I painstakingly put the pieces of my life back together.
I made a solemn vow.
With the cage removed, I conquered depression forever.
ONE WEEK LATER
Motherfucker took my ice cream, too.
Several years ago I lost the only person in my life who understood me, was anything like me, and with whom I’d lived for 20 years. I realized everything about my life was a lie, and it broke me. I gained 25 pounds. then I went off my meds and stopped eating and sleeping. I’d be stumbling on the sidewalk like a drunk and realize it was evening and I hadn’t had my morning coffee or anything else. I lost friends, turned my back on family, and planned my death. That last part was stopped by several things. A gun store clerk got creeped out by me and suggested I leave. My ex forced me back to a doc and onto my meds. I started sleeping again. I started eating again. But I know that black hole is still in me, like one of those penny vortex machines in the mall, and I could go down it at any time. I’ve never recovered most of the relationships. I understand the cage. Mine was a sofa in front of the tv, tuned permanently to the military channel. We never lose our cages. I’ve realized that this blackness has been with me since early childhood, that I have to be aware of it, that I have to make hard choices sometimes to take that shower (damn thing), that I have to see people, that I have to put myself “out there” with the world. When I was a kid there was a line from a song, “Your prison is walking through this world all alone.” I didn’t know then why it hit me so hard until my 50s.
Keep looking for the sunshine.
Isn’t it amazing how easy it is to fall into that black hole. The cage, or the sofa in front of the tv, is never gone, as you say. It can be so devastating to fight it and then find yourself right back in it. I think that recognizing the cage is part of you, to be aware of it, is huge in making strides toward recovery. Making hard choices is so difficult – and so necessary. Thank you, Chris, for sharing your story with me. Thank you for putting it “out there” for others who may need to hear it. You are brave. I admire you for it.
You keep looking for the sunshine, too 🙂
-Sarah
So gorgeous and so poignant
Your cartoons are amazing…….
Thank you. I really appreciate the comment 🙂