If you’ve been following along for a while now, you may know that life has truly been treating me well. Really, this warm and nurturing time in my life could be described as my own personal Summer. But, it’s also been no secret to those close to me that the past few to several weeks have been quite difficult. Two family members of mine have been diagnosed with cancer, one has now passed away, and in addition to all of that, things have transpired to try and upend the progress I’ve made this year in terms of my faith and my future. I’m emerging from these last few weeks feeling a bit shaken.
Having a history of depression doesn’t help matters much, and has only made me more anxious that my depression is relapsing and I’ll soon be back down in that hopeless pit wanting nothing more than to feel something again. See, for me, depression often feels like nothing. Literally nothing. I get numb and disassociate in major ways. I shirk responsibly, cut off my friends, and hole myself up in my room. It’s a terrible feeling, especially for someone who is naturally expressive and is, somewhat, an empath. Being numb and holing myself up in my room goes against who I am. I hate it, but I can’t seem to help it when it happens. There were times in high school where I had to be literally dragged out of bed and into school because of a depressive episode.
I’ve been afraid the last few weeks that depression was coming back into my life again, after what has been a long period without it. In fact, I’ve been in “full remission” since mid-2018. My prognosis has never been better, and honestly, I’ve never felt better. But still, that fear persists.
Honestly, though, when I think rationally about this (which can be hard to do) I’ve had a hard couple weeks, which included getting bombarded with bad news almost daily and I’ve, for the most part, kept my composure. That’s progress, my friends! These kinds of things would throw anyone off, for weeks, months even. And it would all totally be okay. I’ve kept going this time. I haven’t shirked from obligations or holed myself up in my room, I’ve been out there, and have been present as much as I can be.
No, this isn’t depression. Not yet, anyway.
It seems to be more akin to a midsummer thunderstorm. You know what I’m talking about: You’re by the pool in the afternoon, enjoying your favorite drink and then all of the sudden, big, black clouds fill the sky and you hear it: The rumbles of thunder. Soon, those rumbles become crashes, followed by pouring rain. You can’t see beyond the rain right now, and for a second, you even forget something important:
It’s still summer.
The weather is still warm, the pool is still open, and the sun is still shining bright. It’s all going to be okay. Thunderstorms are just a fact of summer, they don’t last forever.
The weather is still warm, the pool is still open, and the sun is still shining bright. It’s all going to be okay. Thunderstorms are just a fact of summer, they don’t last forever. Sure enough, the thunderstorm subsides almost as soon as it’s arrived. The sun is shining once again and you go back outside to resume your day by the pool.
All is well.
That’s what I’ve been resting on these last couple weeks. My personal thunderstorm has shaken me a bit, but it hasn’t changed the fact that it’s still summer in my life. I’m still firing on all cylinders, I’m still moving forward, and me taking a day to breathe here and there is a good thing and not a harbinger of a depressive relapse to come.
As my mom used to tell me growing up: “Don’t worry honey. It’s just a little rain.”
Tim Coe 