In early May I began wading in a shit filled abyss. My body went limp. My voice grew weak. I couldn’t express all the emotions that had overcome me. All the trauma that surfaced with one visit to Florida. I was supposed to be there for six weeks but only lasted three. I physically fled from that place and those emotions but my voice it had left me and my mind remained in that abyss now all the way in it; swimming desperately trying to escape. It wasn’t until Sezin reached out with an unexpected post that lifted me up above the rip current of worthlessness and despair that I had been swimming against. After the silence I was able to post things that I thought I would never be able to share with anyone. I wrote things down that I hadn’t told some of my best friends. I was heard by so many and felt better for sharing one of my darkest moments.
Everything felt right again. I even decided it was time to finally let go and put actions to thoughts and assemble Sex Love Joy…
…Then September began. September, the month that has been slaying me since 1996. Filled with so many good and even more bad memories. All those memories packed into two weeks – September 2-14. September the month in which I usually start running fast and hard. Run girl run. I always tell myself. Run fast and hard. Get far far far! So I started running again then her birthday came. I was already running as fast as I could but this year I was going no place. There I was still in the same place running hard and fast. I was panting thinking about how not long ago when I ran very fast for a long time I could get far – from anything and anyone. I look up, panting still, wondering when the Red Queen will appear.
“A slow sort of country!” said the Queen. “Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!”
Like that? Yes, that is exactly how it feels to live with depression sometimes. You run as fast as you can for as long as you can only to realize you haven’t made any forward progress at all. I am not fond of running whatsoever but once again it is September. How do I manage to overcome these feelings if running isn’t my thing? That’s what I keep asking myself but running is all I seem to have been doing for fifteen long years. Running with a heavy heart and tears always falling down and here I still am – September in the same place I was so very long ago. It doesn’t really matter what month it is either because I know the truth that sometimes it doesn’t take very much for me to plummet. Hard. Quickly. Without trying to break my fall. I hit the ground without even uttering ouch!
There is absolutely nothing beautiful about denying yourself the ability to heal because you are too afraid of what life would be like if you actually went to therapy or worse yet decided to agree to being medicated. There might be other things that work too. You could stop letting people into your life that you know take but never give. You could stop being there for those that hurt you repeatedly and so what if she is your mother. What if you want to run from what you love most? What if you aren’t strong enough to give to your children because you want to take for yourself? What if giving is what is killing you but you don’t know where to stop or start. Healing? What is that?
Running in the Red Queen’s race. Running barefoot over glass accepting new wounds over the old scars. Waiting for something magical to help me win this race all the while knowing I have other choices. Denying that I can ask others to turn the noise down so that I can hear the faint screams coming from my heart. September I hate you! So much good. So much bad. So much I just can’t. I want to turn it all off until I learn to run twice as fast. So I make the choice to turn the noise coming from me off, turn my back on the one thing I do that helps me move on and when I do the world grows louder. There is a lot of noise out here. A lot.
I can’t bare the pain anymore so I write it down. I hit publish and I pray that when I wake up in the morning this all will hurt less. I pray that I find the strength to not allow myself to be anything or anyone’s victim. I pray that in the morning I can at least ignore those that are trying to hurt me either knowing or unknowingly. I pray that all the running I’ve been doing this long hard September has trained my muscles to be stronger. I pray long and hard to a Celestial Planning Committee that is taking another long lunch. I pray then I sleep. I am not fond of running but I know that as long as the tears keep flowing I am slowly working through these emotions. Slowly. I do everything slowly even the fast hard running. There is no Red Queen. There is no race. There is nothing but the feelings that overcome me and the healing that I must do so that when I get to my end I get there happy.
Time for new running shoes. Pink and girly. Something light and sweet to fit that me I’m running towards.
© Anaín Bjorkquist September 23, 2011 ~ All Rights Reserved.