This is something I wrote while I was recovering from depression - something that I have suffered from on and off for ten years. I feel that I have finally recovered, but I still have my bad days.
My usual handle is CareyBear, or just The Bear.. This is thanks to the friends of mine that named me and helped to save me. I am 26 and have suffered from mild depression (though mild is a relative term) from the age of 16.
I hope my words might inspire others, or at least help to shatter the icy loneliness that is the greatest enemy of the depressed.
It was cold on the rocks early in the morning, shards of frost that glittered sharp in dawn light. Low chill mist catches my feet as I reach the top of this boulder, an outcrop of rock in a sea of mist, slippery with the frost and cold as my heart.|
Cold and hard, a landscape the spirit trod with head down, alone, a task as barren of joy as the rocks were of life.
But the sun rose, as it always does, caressing the mist, the yellow warmth catching the ice and lifting it into curious tendrils of fog that drift up about my legs as I stand towards the sunrise. I ignore the last misty fingers that reach for me, and feel them slide away as the mother sun touches me again.
Bathed in the glow, the lowered cloud before me parts, as the sun, teasing and playing with the mist at first, grows stronger. Now the shining is a war against the cold, burning through the fog about my eyes, my heart and my soul - but 'is it soon enough?' I ask, can I allow myself to be saved?
I stand upon the rock, the first touch of light to land is at my feet. I am bathed, and warmed. I watch the mist beneath the light, struggling to keep it's grip of chill beyond it's time. From the heights to the valley before me, the sun chases the cold, touches the earth with the first gentle caress I felt myself not so long ago. The world begins to wake, as the ice drops its' hold on the leaves and blades of green below, dropping to the earth, which drinks it and is refreshed. Again and again, day after day, the cold of night and glad of day, misty darkness burned away.
And as I watch this I look up,
and I see beyond the mist
so close that I can touch some,
a thousand rocks like this.
My frozen eyes are thawing,
and alive enough to see,
a thousand people blinking
and waking.... just like me.
Every one the same,
Carries the same fear,
That we were but the only one,
And held that lonely dear.
But now the dawn has cleared my sight
The sun has chased away dark night
The warmth has gently eased my fright,
My eyes not bound in cold white.
We each stand close enough to touch,
Amazed at freedom from this clutch,
Freed from fear we feared so much,
We never saw the Truth as such.
The only wall is our own fear,
We did not see those so, so near,
We COULD NOT see the Truth as such,
If you never reach, you never touch.
A thousand wake, a thousand see,
Each of the thousand blinks in the light, as each eye opens to a beautiful sight, to find that one is not alone, that life is not a game of solitaire, but that around each is many close enough to touch, each in the same pain, the same fear, the same loneliness, never realising that, all the same, we fear our fear until it blinds us..... We all can see, and our first sight the first sight of another, all at once and together we know.... No one is alone.
A thousand laugh as each breaks free,
We gaze upon a smiling sea,
I'm not alone, not I but WE!
A thousand bound in cold despair,
Burned away by Ra's bright stare,
Who cares that life can be unfair?
NOTHING LEFT OF TO BEWARE!
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