Let the Weeds Hear and not Care

Days have passed and my head is empty of meaningful thought.  I focus more on what was, what is an  immediate problem  and how I might respond when spoken to, since all chatter doesn’t strike me as interesting.  The doldrums periods come and go.  They are always part of  increased depression that even I question shy it is dominating me now. To take a higher dose of antidepressant is something I won’t do nor will I consider changing which one I am on.  Over the years I have been on some that have had such an influence on  me psychologically and physically that I cringe at trying a new pill.

If you take antidepressants you understand what I am writing.  Hopefully, other  readers that do not take antidepressants understand an antidepressant is a good thing, but does not cure a condition, it seems to control and cover it up, but take off the bedspread and a break in the protective shield formed from the medication allows the condition to blossom.  The last time I saw the psychiatrist he kept asking if I didn’t want to change the dose for the antidepressant , or change to another brand.  On good days I am perfectly happy, but as I tell him, if I begin sliding down hill for a short period, nothing will stop the decline into a murky, grey abyss.  I also tell him that somehow this all will reverse and it will be as I have never had the little interlude.

The real downside of depression is that it is real and  each time I am sliding down I try to wear a facade that hides it..   When I travel down I am always caught in a dilemma of telling the truth that I am closing down for a while or just not saying  anything.   People very close to you, a spouse or sibling or maybe a parent have experienced this with you so often they also know, but for mere acquaintances it is a tale that if told too often it becomes  problematic.  At first everything is so wonderful with them and they tell me to not worry.  Later on they tend to feel it is an excuse I use to take part.  If they only knew!

Today is a sunny day  with bright blue skies yet my head floats in a mist of grey that cushions  any neuron to spark to free me or allow me to occasionally bounce to a another layer of my brain where I would find something worthwhile.  And so I just go on.  I have a yard filled with weeds.  Maybe this is the time to work in it.  I can’t imagine a weed asking for much!!

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