I have been hit by melancholy, a low-grade depression. It has been skulking up on me, playing the old and tired game of shadowing. I feel a tap on my shoulder, turn around, and find nothing. It walks so closely that it mimics my moves. It starts with feeling overwhelmed. Seeing what needs to be done, but with no idea where to start or how to fit it all into a day. More caffeine is drank, and less sleep is had. My hands shake. I worry if I am loved, if I do enough, if I am enough. I look for assurance and guarantees. The fragility builds upon itself, like particles of sand atop each other. Seemingly compact, though at risk of caving in at any moment. So many changes shall be taking place next year, and my child will need me to strong. She will also need to see tears and vulnerability. She needs me to show her how to do feelings. Perhaps that is one of the issues. We almost become disassociated shells as we go about our day. Never checking in with our minds and hearts, perusing our to-do lists. It’s funny what you let slide when melancholy hits. You cease to exercise, eat regularly, drink water, take your tonics, meditate, stop. You cease to contact friends and plan adventures. All the stuff you actually require. I know what my triggers are, and I know what to do to feel better.
A very brave friend has shown me you are allowed to say when you need to retreat, and bow out on a particular day. After all, you have some inner filing to sort. She also showed me how to reach out in a meaningful way, to suggest a dinner or movie. She showed me how to make overtures of friendship without fear of rejection. She is doing some major work, eating well and taking time for herself. She is glowing. I want to glow too. I first heard the song, It’s a Wonderful Life by Black a week before I was abducted. I loved the melancholic overtone running through the hope in the undertone. They created the perfect song with the perfect video clip. It is a wonderful life… I really am of an age where experience has shown me that melancholy doesn’t jump me in a dark alley. Events and comments and the world and the news shadow us all, and we need to consistently dive into our tool kit. I just enquired of myself what might be needed this afternoon. I am going to make a pot of green tea, a salad wrap, sit outside for five minutes, and eat freshly baked lavender scones this afternoon. That is what I shall do.