We Can’t Share the Same Darkness
I haven’t been depressed in a long time.
For someone who spent most of their teen and early adult life juggling doctors, diagnosis’s, and medications, this is a big deal.
But I still have a darkness in me.
I can feel it. Not every day or even every week, but it’s there. A weight that ebbs and flows. It hangs out in the background, and frankly, I don’t mind.
It’s sort of like fear in that way. I’m no longer trying to get rid of it or waiting for it to pass, I’m acting in spite of it. Yes, but.
It’s welcome to have a voice but it’s not calling the shots. It’s welcome in the car but it’s not driving.
You acknowledge it’s there but act anyway.
The thing about darkness though is that it likes company. It never turns down an invitation.
So I have to be careful of who I surround myself with, especially who I date.
I think everyone has a darkness in them and I’ve learned (through much trial and error, emphasis on the error) that I can’t share that same darkness as my partner. We can’t share the same triggers, the same Achilles heel.
We can’t share the same peaks and valleys. Constructive interference.
That amplification would destroy me. And I’ve worked too hard to go back.
Taken during the September 2016 lunar eclipse.