Understanding the Storm

I wake up in the rain.

Lying on my back in a puddle, blinking the confusion away, the familiarity of it settles over me. Ah yes, I think. Rain. It is always raining here. I don't think it was always this way, but I can't quite remember when it started. Most of the time, it doesn't matter. It's raining. I should get out of the rain.

I look around. Every morning is a little different. Sometimes there's an umbrella lying around somewhere nearby, but I don't see one today. There's a lump of something in the distance. Could that help? Unsure, it takes a while before I decide to make the effort to walk all the way over there and investigate.

It's a jacket. Not one of the really nice ones, with a waterproof hood, but a jacket all the same. I pull it up off the ground and shake the water free of it before putting it on. Nothing spectacular happens, but I know from experience that after a while the jacket will warm up. At the very least, it will keep the rain from soaking my clothes.

I look up at the rain, squinting. An infinite number of drops, falling falling falling.

Taking a steadying breath, I begin my day.



*        *        *



This is what living with depression is like for me. It's a constant rainfall, ever present in the back of my mind, regardless of what else is going on. Some days it seems like I am better protected from it - like waking up with an umbrella that keeps me completely dry - and on those days it's almost like I'm my old happy self again. Then the next day I'll wake up and be completely miserable again.

It's particularly hard, I think, for the people around me. They see me happy and they think the depression is gone; and when I'm sad again they're disappointed that the depression has come back. But I don't really see it that way. To me, it's always there; it's just that sometimes it doesn't affect me as much.

And I don't know if it will always be there. I have no idea. But for now I am contented that some days I wake up with an umbrella, or a nice hooded jacket. And on all the other days, at least I have a bare-minimum jacket - the medication I've been taking for over nine months now - to keep me from freezing to death.

Because I know that people do "freeze to death" from depression. At least two people in my own life drowned in their rainstorms.

So as long as it's raining, I'm grateful for even the little jackets.