Getting Over Depression

As a small child I recall depression having a sinister darkness about it, as it forcefully slithered into my innocent life. Unable to yield the vile disregard for the lack of life-experience I encompassed, I seemed to be a prime target. The day was grey and the trees were black dead pieces of bark, stuck inside oxygen deprived mossy pond water on the day darkness came. My main escape from its evil clutches was my mother, but she was rarely their, and when I cried for her she didn’t come. What’s a father? I never knew. I guess thats why the darkness came. The world is overwhelmingly vast when you’re small and everything is so unbelievably frightening.

The broken bottles lie scattered in what appears to be a trillion jagged pieces on the side of the road. A coke truck must have had a bad accident right here, my eldest sisters voice, that sentence, cling to me like the darkness tried to. The scene is colossal to me and I’m scared, but I don’t say anything. No one answered when I cried so no one will answer when I’m scared, I predict. So hold it in, stuff it, eventually it will just get so far away it will disappear.

That cave, and the darkness that lives there, and I’m scared of it and the man inside. I just have remain obedient and tranquil. I want my mom but she left me here and wont be back for a really long time. So I stuff it, I hide it, maybe if I push this one back further, it will disintegrate like it didn’t really happen, I predict. The hunger pain, it isn’t real, stuff it. I miss my mom, she’s gone, this time forever. I’m scared, I’m sad, I guess this is life, I’ll just stuff it.

What is suffering? I didn’t know, it was just life to me. I didn’t cry, I didn’t wine, I didn’t pout or feel sorry for myself. I didn’t know there was anything other than this. I simply just lived and survived and felt blessed when I had food, and prayed when I didn’t, did as I was told and never questioned life.

So here it is, all the many reasons for darkness to be in my life condensed down to small paragraphs. I realize now that I’m bigger than the darkness. I’m better than the darkness, and I know ways to beat the darkness. Somewhere between my later childhood and now I’ve learned that crying, feeling sorry for myself, and wining will somehow make things better. I know I’m wrong, because I’m 33 and it hasn’t made the pain any better. If anything it’s made it more intense. All these learned behaviors are my reasons for keeping darkness locked inside. Maybe the fact that I now understand suffering and feel sorry for my childhood, is why darkness stays. Why do I cry and feel sorry for my child self now but during the time spent as my child self, I didn’t dream of feeling sorry for myself. I was stronger as a child than I am now because I continue to carry this darkness around with me, but as a child the darkness tried to force itself in but I pushed it away. There was no darkness, it was just life and I just dealt with it. It’s time for the darkness to leave because I’m going to be ok. I survived my childhood because I was meant to and because God loves me.

Darkness get out, you aren’t welcome. My child self is ok because she had God. My child self refused to let you in because she was strong. I let you in because I was weak. I refuse to give into weakness any longer so get out, and take your sadness with you, I don’t have time for it. You belittle me and make me ashamed of myself. You take my energy and in return make me cry about things I have no control over. Your reign over my adult life is over. Goodbye Darkness, you’ve overstayed your intrusion. Don’t let the door hit you on your way out.

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