The Black Waves

It’s sunny.

I lie, comfortable with the warmth on my face.

Idyllic.

Except that I’m lying here trying to stay safe. Riding out the black wave. Look more closely…

I’m actually in my bed. The sun streams in the window because it is only 7pm. It’s summer time and sunny and I’m in bed; there’s a clue right there.

If you could see how I’m lying you’d see that I’m all curled up in a fetal ball with my eyes scrunched closed trying to escape the world; clue number 2.

Maybe you’d notice my headphones? If you took one out of my ear and listened you’d find Nirvana’s Heart Shaped Box blaring on repeat; another clue that all is not well. 

I had a beautiful day today doing things that make me happy. Unfortunately they didn’t make me happy and now, as well as the darkness, there is a sense of frustration and injustice. I had a nice day! Gimme a break. But that’s not how depression works.

My suicidal thoughts have gotten worse again: more detailed; more frequent. It scares me. 

I don’t want to die.

 But I’m scared that I might.

So, I’m in bed to stay safe. To ride out the storm. It does feel like a storm. Like fearsome, huge, powerful black waves tumble and crash on to me, pushing me down, robbing me of breath, making me panic. 

  
Sometimes it’s like I’m sitting on a beach and I can see the waves crashing in the distance but I know I am ok. For now.

Sometimes the black tide comes into the beach. It overwhelms and destroys everything.

Times like this, when the waves of depression are like this, there is no beach. Nothing to cling to.

The force is too strong and I’ve been here before. My strategy when in a storm like this is to succumb to the blackness. Allow the waves to toss my body this way and that. Don’t fight. Just accept that it is and hope that there will be a calm after the storm. If someone could throw a lifeline I’d grab it but the middle of a dark stormy ocean is a lonely place.  

Eventually the depression storm will subside. I will come round on a beach somewhere. I can assess the damage. Maybe I’ll be lying in a pool of the black water. Or maybe I’ll be lying on lovely sand, the black tide far out and the sun on my face. Just as it is now – for real.

So, if you saw me lying here with the sun on my face you might think that looks lovely but, believe me, there is nothing lovely about lying still to try and fight for your life. Sunshine or no sunshine it’s a fight for survival.

  

And now the sun has set but the waves still pound.

 

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