Depression.
Sudden and surprising. I usually sense when I’m about to catch a cold. Scrathcy throat. Runny nose, Itchy eyes. So I take cold medicine. Sometimes it helps, sometimes I just suffer through.
But depression. It sneaks up. No warning. Woke this morning and my old friend, depression, was waiting for me. Just like that. Bam. Wham.
Yesterday was a good day. No indication of sudden changes. Tasks got completed. Plans were made. Slept well. Rested well.
And then this morning. Here it is. Just like the blanket of fog that covers the valley where I live. Except the depression rarely lifts as quickly does the fog.
So. Choices need to be made. Work tasks need to be done. Meetings need to occur.
Solidering on. I have learned that my best reaction is to take one step, one task, one goal at a time. No, it’s not easy.
For two years I attended what is now called Western Washington University. My wife and I lived about 30 or 40 miles south of Bellingham. Between late September and early May the fog laying on I-5 could be thick. From time to time the fog would freeze on the roadway. It was called ‘black ice.’ Scary. Dangerous.
More than I’d like to admit I would arrive on campus and have no recollection of the drive. I wasn’t asleep at the wheel. I just didn’t have a clear memory of when I left Burlington and arrived in Bellingham. The scenery was blanketed by fog.
When depression strikes I go through my days without really experiencing the day. Like those commutes, I often prepare for bed during a spell of depression, wondering how I arrived at that moment. The days may be sunny, there may be tasks completed, meetings attended, goals achieved, and multiple items checkewd off the ‘To-Do’ list. Like driving in a thick fog, I just go from place to place.
Depression. Welcome to my world. Depression normally lifts, though I’ve learned there is no timetable. Depression lifts, often just as surprisingly as it arrived. Depression lifts. For that I am grateful.