Depression & Your Loved Ones

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Photo by Hermes Rivera on Unsplash

‘Where am I?’ her eyes squinted at the onslaught of the breeze. It made her milky gown cling to her body’s contours and cascaded with her locks at the back.

‘It doesn’t matter where ever I am,’ she thought as she drowned her vision, ‘I don’t want to be.’

 

The wind felt invisible. It slumped down, and let go of her hair.  It soldiered on all around except near her, hoping to garner some support from the elements of the volatile surrounding. The sky was the first to come to the rescue, as it abandoned the haze and with a brushstroke heavy,  painted the horizon wet and added to it a swirl of colors.

The ground could not help itself and fluttered its downy surface outwards from beneath her feet and rose towards the sky. With the sleight of a magician, it slipped from underneath her and let her float for a moment.

Her eyes opened mid-air, she was closer to the canvas than to the tidal ground.  She gazed at the pregnant sky, and hoping the colors will crash down upon her, she pleased: “I am willing to suffocate under your weight.”

The sky skipped a swirl, struck by lightning at her pensive thought. It regained its composure and soldiered on to swirl again, afraid that it might lose its colors.

Falling down towards the ground, she closed her eyes disappointed at the sky. “Maybe I will break like glass into thousand pieces upon hitting the ground,” she thought in her free fall.

The ground shuddered one last time to embrace her impact. She struck ground but the verdant sea did not strike back, only gave beneath her.  She was the tranquil eye of the storm at the center with circular waves propagating outwards.

Like a child struggling to rise from soft pillows, she wiggled with all her might to get away from the spongy ground that she mistook for her exit.

Frustrated, she stood up with a frown.

“LET ME LEAVE,” she boomed and with a quiver of her lips, she stamped the ground rid of its softness.

“Let me…go,” the shout became a whimper as she plopped on to her knees and buried her face in her hands.

Her sobs echoed and reverberated through all the elements.

The sky felt her agony. Half-paralyzed like the ground beneath, it fought hard to hold on to the drapes that have gone dull.

A white noise flooded her ears overpowering her sobs and reached a crescendo to announce an arrival.

She looked up, ‘Give up already, ‘ she shouted towards her horizon.

The static lurked beyond her horizon plane and did not stop like an old stubborn TV. It was the raging waters.

Soon she saw the torrents rise and fall around her horizon swaying the sky and the ground alive again. A wall of churning water rising to her right caught her attention; turning left, she saw it mirrored on the other end of the horizon.

Like the big-horned mountain goats ready to strike each other, the waters rose in a maelstrom upon their hind legs and eyed each other.

Her enthusiasm had only started to break through her apathy that she snuffed it.  Unlike others, the raging torrents didn’t lose their vigor and momentum but galloped towards her, at the center.

“Smithereens!” she thought, her fingers crossed.

Hoping for a cold departure she let her body loose and waited for the impact.

Thuds resounded on her sides, followed by a loud clang at her zenith. The torrents crashed into each other, separated, and crashed again all around but against her.

Furious, she covered her ears and plopped face down on the ground. The ground wasn’t able to muffle her shout.

The waterworks felt unappreciated for the first time. It too stumbled–losing the froth and the white noise.

The stubborn waterworks didn’t subside but rearranged itself:  With the chill of the wind, the streaks of light, and the added mist, It spread in a sparkling blue globe around her.

The ground rolled her over and made her look around her. She was in a snow globe! Just like one her grandfather gifted to her when she was a child.

“Too bad, he is not here anymore,” she gave out and turned over again.

Next, she could not breathe and her sight was a blur. The globe had cracked and the water had rushed in.

She realized she was holding her breath.

‘Why?’ she questioned herself and breathed in to fill her lungs.

Death alluded her once again; she found herself upon what remained of the torrents–a puddle. Her single breath had drowned out the raging waters.

“I just want to get out, why don’t you let me” she blared at the already stricken sky. Her rage turned the ground underneath solid and made the sky drip itself colorless.

“Finally,” she thought, with neither remorse nor regret but lightened off of a burden.

It rained and she shut her eyes closed.

“Listen, I don’t understand what it is myself,” she continued as if to vindicate herself of her acerbic behavior, “I wish I did.”

She choked on her words, “It would have made this passage so much short and smooth. I am sorry but I want to be…”

A familiar sound interrupted her:

‘clip-clop’

‘clip-clop’

‘clip-pity-clop’

The sound faint at first grew louder from beyond the hill to her right. She wiped away her tears and looked in wait.

She felt like closing her eyes and let its familiarity be her partial escape, for it felt like home.

Suddenly, she was a child again watching her grandmother make Toby, her stuffed horse, dance upon her knees. A blue scarf circled above her sweater and around her neck. Her brown eyes shone from behind the thin-rimmed glasses, while her hair bobbed as she sang:

“Clip-pity clop, clip-pity clop

This is the way the horses trot

Clip-pity clop, clip-pity clop

Faster, faster, faster……. until they drop.”

Eyes closed still, Toby dropped beside her grandmother’s knees and her younger self’s claps.

She opened her eyes again to find herself clapping. She stopped immediately.

The world has changed around her, lost of all its affectations: The sky was a natural a blue veiled only by a wisp of clouds, through which the sun shone; the ground was a pasture green progressing outwards in plains, mounds, and hills.

Taking a deep breath, she felt the breeze caress her, and the scars upon her wrist. The clouds parted to let the sunlight warm her.

She felt complete and calm.

“But for how long..” she thought as the old ragged feeling began creeping back.

“You phony girl, all this because you crave attention! You spoiled..” Her bouts of chastising herself were then interrupted by a neigh and followed by the ‘clip-clop’ that she had forgotten about.

A smile crept on her countenance unknowingly, much to her surprise and everything around her. She slowly craned her neck and was met with a series of shorts, followed by a ‘neigh’.

It was Toby. Her childhood-favorite had come alive.

The smile spread wide across her face, and for the first time, she was thankful for the resilience of her loved ones.


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