The Cast of Not So Many Colors

I was very fortunate to grow up in a family where family was so important. Not only the immediate family but also cousins, aunts and uncles, their pets etc. We had several relatives that lived by and that meant one thing, get togethers. The good thing was that 99% of the time we liked each other. One particular get together we were in the back yard playing around. I had to have been around eight or nine. With being so young and my siblings and cousins not much older we used our creative imaginations to have all sorts of fun. During our fun festivities the wind began to pick up and dark clouds began to roll in. So what did we do? Rather than go inside we ran around and acted like the world was going to end. I ran to our swing set and climbed up so I could hang on the top bar. The wind was picking up more and more and I playfully yelled for help even though I could have just let go and fallen down and been fine. An older brother knew I was goofing around but came running to my aid anyway. He grabbed my legs and I let go. I had made the mistake of bending my knees and we both lost our balance and unfortunately I came falling to the ground and hard.  In the landing I apparently used my arm in a way that disagreed with mother earth and mother earth won. I looked at my arm and it was bending directions I knew it wasn't supposed to. With a trip to the ER I came away with a lovely colorful cast for my broken arm. The choice of colors I had for my cast back then was white, white or white. It was a hard choice but I went with white. Now I imagine this cast must have been a bother but I really only have three memories from it. The first being how I struggled with sleeping at night with it. The second being how it made my arm itch so badly. I had to bend a wire hanger to get to those hard to reach areas. The last memory was when it was cut off. No matter how many times the nurse assured me she wasn't going to cut my arm I just knew she was ... she didn't. I was so glad to get it off.

As depression hit and I began to work with it I really had no clue how to handle it. It was like an incompletely unwelcomed horribly smelly guest that wouldn't go away. I was being vigilant with meeting with my psychologist and beginning to practice different techniques to work with it but I felt I wasn't getting anywhere. I was in a dark place looking for any kind of happiness. I kept at it and kept at it and over the past couple of years I have learned something about the unwelcomed guest. I have learned that the key word for me in all this is to "work" with it. For me, that doesn't mean right now that poof it is gone. It means I have learned how to handle it better. I recall feeling so much guilt when depression hit and like it was all my fault. The darkness and loneliness constantly consumed me. Through so much work with this beast I have learned that it is not my fault. Depression is an illness and even after almost three years of working with it I find it is still there. With constant attention of my day I can enjoy more things but I still have those days where I feel I am spiraling down desperately grasping for any hold but not able to get one while in total darkness. Yep, those moments and / or days come and they are horrible. I have to tell myself that it's not because I am a bad person or that I deliberately welcomed it but I have to remind myself that with any illness those days happen and that I am still healing. I sure didn't like my cast for my arm but I knew it meant I was healing. I may not like working with my smelly unwelcomed guest but I know that as I do so I am healing. 

May I add one other thought here. Healing is done on such a personal level; however, asking for help is completely okay. What do I mean? If you are having one of those terrible moments or days let your family, friends or whoever is close to you know. I often don't do this but have been recently reminded how incredible and helpful family and close friends can be. Those close friends may think it is no biggie to help but what may seem so small to them can be so life altering. They usually don't see the tears from being touched by their actions but those small things bring something those that fight depression so badly want to feel and that is hope.