I am the voice of depression, speaking through an open, willing, although somewhat uncomfortable and reluctant vessel…
But she is trying to make space for me, to welcome me, befriend me, setting the table for tea, wishing to speak with me
I am but a messenger, a visitor
Moving through your space from time to time
I sense that I am most unwanted, like some hideous beast
I’m frightening, I’m heavy, and I can be all consuming when turned away
You think that I am ugly and you run from me
Holding the door shut, you do any number of things to pretend I’m not there
Distract, divert, run away
But keeping up your games exhausts you and hurts you way more than I would ever wish to do
You live with me constantly knocking at your door….why won’t you let me in?
Like a ragamuffin child, dirty, unkempt, wild, unpredictable, unruly, and persistent, I simply wish for your attention
Can you love me too? Can you welcome me into your home? Even when I don’t play by your rules? I am a game changer…and you know it…but how much suffering are you willing or able to endure to avoid me? What is your cost? Is it worth it?
I come to teach you, to hold you, to comfort you, to nourish your aching bones, to transform, to rewire, to heal…but it is me that you must feel…
You are so scared of me. The mention of my name sends most people sprinting. You don’t want to talk about me. When your friends smell too much like me, as I may be closer to their doors than yours, you freeze, back away, give me (give them) lip service…that you care, that you’re there, but truly I’m aware that you are impaired…you have no clue, no idea what to do…
You all want a quick fix, instant reward. You’d let me in if you knew I’d never come again, but you’re not prepared for a lifelong relationship.
You give me all sorts of offerings
You throw medication at me as if that’s what I want or what I need…just begging me to leave
You serve up the greatest parts of your life pushing me away…after all, this is the comfortable “Being tough”, “being strong”, “pushing along” way we see
But what would a visit with me possible offer? Who knows, not many go there…
And some who do are the ones who have lost the strength to resist me but still when swarmed by my essence, they detest me…if only they could see my disguised beauty, that loving me, hearing me, honoring me, would be the end of my suffocating, burdensome demeanor…
I am the hardest house guest you’ll ever entertain, but think again: Is the child in tantrum unworthy of love and attention?
When can we meet with space and grace?
When can I show you my face? It’s only as ugly as all that you have not been ready to see
I am a shadow gift if you’d take me
My beauty grows steadily with safety and security
Truly, when you invite me to your table for tea, I am gentle, I am wise, I am loving, and I bring you brilliant gifts…most of all, when called, I give you peace and rest. I offer small gift installments, one by one, and I leave you time to open them and try them on for size
When I know and trust that you aren’t afraid of me, don’t think I’m ugly, I can visit freely…I don’t have to set up camp in your backyard
You are I can become friends
In the end, perhaps you can love me
Who am I, you ask, aside from that which you have coined me: Depression?
Hang out with me long enough and I will reveal that I am the best version of you, the best version of our world….yearning, pining….
I am God redesigning
With much love and deep gratitude, written by Carlie Kilduff
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