And so an old acquaintance visits once again....

It hasn't been all that long since the last meeting. I hadn't asked for it to return. I had hoped to never see it again. I thought I had locked the doors and closed the windows and whispered 'go away' enough times that it would admit defeat and leave, never to return.

And yet despite my best efforts, despite my protestations, I have realised that a very familiar acquaintance has come stealthily sneaking back into my life and home. It has made it's presence known in the old, familiar ways.

The insomnia.

The broken sleep, punctuated with strange and distressing dreams.

The slow, creeping anxiety which floats increasingly present as a background hum, threatening to deepen and deepen further into panic.

The lethargy, the fatigue.

The heavy, heavy, heavy weight of my body, moving as though through a fog.

The aches and pains and thudding head and heart.

The guilt.

The ruminations- endless loops of repeated, useless thought, which ultimately lead to nowhere.

I've tried to deny it's existence. Tried to will it away. Tried and failed. It's returned. It's teeth nip at my heels. It's breath, panting and fetid, on the back of my neck. It's iron grip around my chest, squeezing out light and hope. It's essence, oozing into my very pores, contaminating me from the inside out.

You're back. I

14 weeks

Of medication. Of therapy. What difference has it made?

Tonight, it feels as though very little difference has occurred. Yet I know, in spite of my current discomfort and pain, that 14 weeks ago I was feeling very, very wretched. At the end of my tether. As though another day would cause me such pain that I would disintegrate into dust in the sunlight. I recall the sun falling into the room through the window and me feeling physically wounded by its presence, turning away from its warming rays. Days of not being able to get up out of bed. Remaining in the same clothing for days on end, no showers. Barely able to tolerate the kids voices as they excitedly told me of their days, of which I'd been absent. Barely eating. Barely drinking. Days passing by in a haze of shoulds which could not be met.

I am better. But I am not whole. I don't know who this creature is. I exist, day by day, but I am not me. I have no goals. No future. No dreams. I am me, bared naked and unknowing.

It feels uncomfortable.

I felt the return of Spring today and it gladdened my heart but my soul remained cold. My Soul said "what does it matter? You will still be you, and you are not enough". If my very essence says that then what hope do I have? None. And so I cannot welcome Spring, with her warm rays and fragrant blooms. For it is meaningless in the end. And I shall burn like embers in the ever increasing Sun.