It has been so very long since I have laid down fresh prose and the excuses abound. Too busy, nothing to say, why the hell am I doing this to begin with? Truth is, I have been buried in the blackness of my depression again. I swear I won't let it get the best of me, but then, something happens: Night falls, someone gets sick, I feel disengaged. That's when I plummet.
So this plummet is because I face losing another spouse. I face the nagging every day challenges that, to others go unnoticed but, to me may as well be Mt. Everest. I go to the store fearful of another panic attack that pushes me to the corner of the pharmacy where normal sick people wait for prescriptions, but I hide.
Why did nobody ever notice how much I was dying? Little by little. Brain cell, by brain cell.
Sometimes I want to put myself out of my - and everyone else's misery. Sometimes I want to scream,"We, the depressed, bipolar and mentally ill need help! We need to be recognized and understood. We need to be treated as human with an affliction. We need time off work. Time to disappear. Time to see our therapists. WE NEED TO BE HEARD!!!! or we will go away."
It hurts to laugh, but I do it so others won't see the tears. It hurts to go out, but I go through the motions so others won't notice. Sometimes it just hurts.
So, for a while, I'll be back to my writing. Starting a new book. Maybe that will ease the pain. For a while. Thanks for reading.
© DD Corbitt
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