WARNING: Following post is different from what I’ve normally been doing.
I remember days where I felt as if I was in a room of impenetrable glass, that no matter how many times I tried to break the prison it never scratched. So I sat there, I allowed the room to consume me. I watched as people moved on with their lives assuming I just didn’t care. The loss of friendship, the missed family moments, the missed chances at saying goodbye. The room was a confine that someday’s were difficult to bear.
I also remember days of clarity, when a door magically appeared and I was able to walk out and join everyone that I had missed. They welcomed me back and took me in without hesitation, and I sometimes wonder if It was hurting them more than myself. Those days would fluctuate and when I ended up back in the room I felt as though I had opened a wound, deepened a scar.
Because of this, there were days of clarity that I felt I should just stay in the room, I had a feeling that the moment would pass. Though there were days where I just couldn’t sit in that room any longer, I wanted to interact with people.
One of my favorite moments outside of the room was when I took my youngest sister to a place called Skyzone. It was this building with trampoline floors, it costs a bit of money but I didn’t care. I paid it and my sister and I began to jump and she looked so happy, I was happy because of it. I bought the two hour pack for both of us, by the end of it we were both exhausted. I kept prolonging the day though, and even though by the end of it I had burnt a hole in my wallet it was worth it. The whole time in the back of my mind I was terrified of the next day, I was afraid to be back in that room again.
I guess this is a glimpse into my psyche for all of you, I know it is different than what I normally have been posting. I’m not posting it because I feel as though I’m back in that room again, it’s actually the opposite. I feel like this is the longest I’ve gone outside of the room. I hope it stays permanently, or at least stays long enough to make it through the holidays.
Lets hope that depression has a soft spot for Thanksgiving and Christmas.
(I wanna pack all the sadness into one post so I can move past it.)
My grandmother passed away in February, this will be the first time going through the holiday without her. I still find it hard to believe that so much time has passed since then, life moves on I suppose. The last gift she got me was a Doctor Who Yahtzee set, I have yet to open it, I probably never will.