I missed the aurora yesterday. In a lot of ways I’m OK about it, as I don’t really want my first ever memory of the Northern Lights to be tainted with the cursed word. Depression. I was fast asleep, assisted by Zopiclone as my sleep had been really suffering over previous weeks.
I’ve not wanted to write for a while as committing depression to paper feels terribly, terribly scary and sad. I’d had an idea in my head of listing all the “not even this makes me feel anything”. Then it struck me that I could flip these into “not even depression stopped me doing these things, having these experiences regardless”. I’m still glad I get to save the aurora though.
Depression did not stop me, will not stop me. It’s agonisingly painful at times in the chaotic fears about the future. It’s painful in its dreaded greyness
So here’s a list, Depression, of all the things you still can’t ruin for good:
Not even the taste of a perfect Belgian chocolate gelato
Not even looking into a friend’s knowing eyes and being held in their arms
Not even a goodnight kiss from my youngest, a long hug from my eldest
Not even a perfect cheese and ham toastie
Not even floating on the lake feeling fully held and supported
Not even weeping into my husband’s firm and steady shoulders
Not even the burnished red of an acer outside the window
Depression, you can’t take these things. You can taint them but they still exist and I still chose them, every single one.
Oh my word, lovely one. This is beautiful writing in the mist of such hard. I’m blown away. This is fighting talk. I love hearing your fight for freedom. You make me so proud to be your friend.
Good Woman Naomi.
Keep adding to that list. You've planted the seed for gelato in my brain......gojng to have to have one. Thank you.🫂