therapy.

i've learned to be self-aware enough to know when a depressive cycle is coming.  it's kind of like a huge texas thunderstorm rolling into your mind.  you see it building on the horizon-- a dark black cloud full of rain and lightning and thunder, gaining strength as it moves closer.  you know the storm will arrive-- there is nothing you can do to stop it-- but it's more a question of when.  and how powerful it will be.

thankfully, this particular bout seems to be on its way out.  it lasted about a month, with two particularly bad weeks-- relatively short, but strong.  the storm starts with sprinkling rain-- the days when it's a bit harder to get out of bed and there's a bit more negative self talk than usual. i still have fight in me, so i focus on exercising and eating well in hopes of limiting the effects.  but as the storm gets stronger, i get weaker.  the sprinkling rain turns to a steady stream, and while i still try and focus on the usual coping tools, i start to tire of the battle.  i start to withdraw.  my appetite disappears.  i have no energy to exercise. and the downward spiral quickens.  this is conveniently when the brunt of the storm hits--the steady stream of rain turns into a downpour.  lightning and thunder accompany it.  then comes the hail.  old demons pay their visit and my mind becomes its own worst enemy.  all i can do is hope to keep myself together long enough to make it through a work day.  friends offer help that i irrationally push away. no one should be around me when i am like this.  i ooze darkness.  i sleep 14 hours a night and am still exhausted.  the nasty, cold weather reflects what's happening in my head.

one week turns into two.  existing is a burden.  the thing required to help me heal is the very thing that is sick.  the small, rational corner of my head knows i can't continue this way and live, so i pull myself together long enough to organize an escape.  i barely pack enough food, i forget a change of clothes, but i start driving to the mountains, hoping to find peace.  the hiking, the mountains, the stars, sleeping in a tent-- nature proves to be a decent therapist.  the storm seems to break.  the dark cloud enshrouding my mind starts to move out slowly.  sunshine peeks through.  rationality begins to return and i start to feel pieces of myself come back.  more time outside helps.  i find motivation to exercise again.  people send perfectly-timed messages of encouragement and love.  the good days once again outnumber the bad.  and the storm is not gone, but i seem to have found an umbrella.

some may wonder why i'm sharing about the dark days as it's not a particularly happy topic.  truthfully, it's helpful for me to write about -- it is part of my reality and it's part of my mortal experience.  and maybe it's helpful for someone to read-- to know there's someone who understands.  and if it's not, that's ok, too.