Sunday, November 24, 2019

That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When I link a blog entry to Facebook, I don't like how the first sentence or first few words show up there. So I'm putting in these two sentences as space filler.

Well, I guess I had a recrudescence of anxiety, or depression, or whatever. I like the word "recrudescence." It's like I had crud, then it cleared up, but now it's cruddy again. Kind of gross, actually. I don't feel cruddy at this moment. It was more that, as autumn moved in, I started having trouble waking up in the morning and getting out of bed when I did wake up, and throughout the day I would feel sad, almost tearful, from time to time for no reason. And when I thought about blogging, I would feel anxious. It came and went.

I am (or at least I think I am) a high-functioning depressive. I don't think people I meet and interact with would leave the encounter thinking, Now, there's an unhappy person. Actually a lot of the time I don't feel depressed because I don't feel it. I put a lid on it, and the top layer of my consciousness goes along as though what's under the lid doesn't exist.

And this autumn's downer is not a pervasive as some depressions I've had. It's a mild attack.

I guess I'm just trying to explain why I disappeared from this blog, and perhaps some other parts of my life, for a little while, but not wanting to make my friends and loved ones worry about me.

Almost all the time, there's some level of depression down in me somewhere. It ebbs and flows, like the tide, or it rises and falls, like the creek behind my house. Yes, I like that one. And sometimes it overflows its banks, like the creek does every few years, and covers its flood plain. My house sits higher and has never had the flood waters touch it, and maybe part of my mind is above the flood, too. It doesn't overwhelm me, it just flows along, sometimes low and slow, sometimes high and fast, and only occasionally out of bounds. So the water has risen, but there's no imminent danger of flooding.

I'm safe and dry. Don't worry.

The grace of God means something like: Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are because the party wouldn't have been complete without you. Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid. I am with you. Nothing can ever separate us. It's for you I created the universe. I love you. — Frederick Buechner

It is important to tell at least from time to time the secret of who we truly and fully are—even if we tell it only to ourselves—because otherwise we run the risk of losing track of who we truly and fully are and little by little come to accept instead the highly edited version which we put forth in hope that the world will find it more acceptable than the real thing. It is important to tell our secrets too because it makes it easier that way to see where we have been in our lives and where we are going. It also makes it easier for other people to tell us a secret or two of their own, and exchanges like that have a lot to do with what being a family is all about and what being human is all about. — Frederick Buechner

No comments: