Darkness
What do you do when the darkness seems to engulf you?
February is always a really hard month for me and right now, looking out my window at the grey sky and the bare trees and remembering the good and the bad of the last 21 years, all I want to do is curl into a little, itty bitty, teeny tiny ball under my covers and hide. I want to go to that place in my mind that seems to hold me as a happy prisoner. A beautiful place that never rains, the sky are always blue with white puffy clouds (you know the kind that you can imagine pictures out of). A crystal blue pond with a full willow tree that you can sit beneath and take in all the beauty around you while you peak through the many branches.
Yesterday was the 21st anniversary of the first time I met my husband of over 14 years. We went on our first date that Valentine's Day. We became a couple four days later when I stole his fedora in the lobby outside my college French class. 18 years later I found out that he was not the person I thought he was. I realized he had multiple mental health issues that he refused to seek help for along with some that I didn't find out about until after I had filed for divorce. The day that he got the divorce papers, he decided that he couldn't live without me and our children. He committed suicide that day in April 4 years ago.
Despite the things he did, the problems he had, I never stopped loving him. Most of his family doesn't realize this or believe this. It's taken years to be in the presence of his mother without getting a look that says "You're a pariah and should be exterminated".
When the darkness engulfs me, as it is today, I just don't care. About close to anything. I don't care what I look like. I don't care what I eat. I could eat everything or I could eat nothing. I'm trying so hard to be conscientious of this today. So hard. My back is hurting and my shoulders are burning because of the weather, but I'm in a place where it doesn't matter right now. All that matters is that I'm alone with my thoughts, my memories - both good and bad. The memories of our first date together where he met me in the student union with a glass filled with hershey kisses and tied with a red ribbon. The memories of the last time I ever saw him alive where I had a glimmer of hope that he would get the mental help he needed and that we could at least still be friends and not enemies. And then all the memories in between.
I want to eat right now. I want to bake, actually. I want to bake decadent chocolate cupcakes. I want to bake chocolate chip cookies. I want to bake pear and apple tarts. I want to bake anything and everything because when I'm baking I can disappear. I can dive into a recipe and tweak it, perfect it, change the flavor and add to it. And everything else doesn't matter anymore. A lot of times I will come out of the kitchen and my major depressive episode at the same time like baking just wipes the depression away. Other times it's like getting drunk where the pain goes away while you're in that state only to find it right back where you left it after you're sober. I have a feeling that today is the latter day. And until I get through February 18 I don't see it getting a whole lot better. Good thing I'm seeing my therapist Thursday.
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