Emergent

emerging

me

from

depression.

I don’t believe it has to be a mystery

but for now

and for me

it is in many ways if not all together, a mystery

and a rather uncomfortable one.

depression.

painful is too pale a word with which to describe the experience

and haunting, one too generous.

it’s like a robber, a cheat;

a storm without end; a fierce foe;

a devourer of life and love and of anything worth anything.

without fanfare and seemingly without prompting

it overtakes and threatens to destroy.

and,

it destroys;

if only for a time,

it destroys.

existence becomes meaningless

and hope

devoid

of hope.

I’ve heard it’s not impossible to contain…

I’ve heard it’s manageable

yet in it’s grip lies unfathomable grief,

death lies waiting at the heart of the encounter.

depression is

a supporter of hatred and rivalry within and without;

it’s an ocean of chaos,

indiscriminate in it’s confiscation of wholeness, expression and movement.

depression is a lie;

it is an echo of truths twisted and confounded with an onslaught of rage and assumed defiance.

it scares me and I feel made

to be afraid.

afraid to live, afraid to not live, afraid to die.

afraid of being in between

afraid of the “what ifs”,  the”what nexts” and the “then so’s”

it’s literally like being consumed by the forces of hell,

albeit it isn’t.

inside I’m screaming the unutterable at deafening decibels  and in a language so indescribable…in some ways, even untraceable.

i’m alone in the midst of many others;

wide awake with consciousness superb…

despicably

superb.

I’m held very close yet alienated

marginalized:

by myself.