My Constant Companion
I was talking with my family yesterday about my depression and my sister-in-law noted that she had never heard me speak so frankly and directly about it, which gave me pause. Yes. I struggle with depression. Perhaps it is something I have kept hidden or quiet over the years, fearful of the judgment and assumptions of others. I don't know that I've had language to talk about it until recently. And I still don't fully understand it. Over the past two years, I have come to know depression as my constant companion. I didn't invite it along for the journey. I don't want it. But there it is. Always present, and always eager to take the starring role if I will kindly move back into the shadows. We wrestle. If I try to ignore it, it makes itself known with a loud roar. I must be vigilant and attentive. I must acknowledge it. Some days it is more powerful than me. Those are very dark, scary days. I have a toolbox, though, that helps me deal with it. I try different to