I don’t reblog things very often (possibly because I don’t post things that often – although this is soon to change!) but I found this incredibly moving, impassioned and like a window into something I try, and often fail, to fully comprehend.
For someone you love to be in a place you can’t fully reach is hard. It is trying and it is difficult and there seems to be nothing to say to make it right, to show you understand or appreciate something that isn’t really available to be appreciated by yourself, not really, not fully.
But the imagery, and the truth, in this post really touched me, and I wanted to pass it along.
This is the hardest blog I’ve ever attempted to write.
For the better part of eight months, I have been struggling under the thumb of a rather intense depression. This is a monster I’ve battled many times in my life; it is not new. Yet, this has been a particularly brutal one, and I’m not out of the woods yet.
As a writer, I try to write about everything. But it’s hard to write about depression. For one, there’s the fear that the minute you say, “I’m suffering from depression,” people will look at you funny. That they will nod at you with wincing, constipated face, place a hand on your arm and say, with all good intent, “How are you?” And your pain will war with your desire to be “normal” and not looked at funny by sympathetic people at parties. So you will answer, “Fine, thanks” while you’ll…
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Sunrise to Starlight 