I can feel it again. All week, perhaps longer, I’ve found myself fighting off the dark night of melancholy that threatens to seep into my mind and heart. I fight because I cannot do anything else. I have to fight it. I cannot afford the hours, days, weeks it would take me to find my way out of the fog. There is too much to do, too much on the line. I have too much going on right now. I have papers to finish, a wedding to plan, work to finish, and a kid to help raise… I don’t have time to be depressed.
I don’t have time to be depressed.
That’s what it comes down to. It’s not that I don’t want it. Part of me misses it, longs for it. I long for depth of emotion, for the time spent searching my soul, calling out to God. I long for the solitude and the clarity of soul I used to have. I long to breathe in the dark night and emerge refreshed.
The problem is that if I let down my guard – if I stop fighting – I lose control. I lose control of my ability to think. I lose control of my ability to be around people. I lose control of my concentration and motivation. You can’t just turn depression off. I wish it worked like that. I really do. To say, “I need to retreat.” And to be able to retreat into my dark night for a few hours, returning to reality when it’s time to write a paper or fix dinner.
But I can’t do that. At least I haven’t learned that skill yet. To let the night in is to surrender for an indiscriminate period of time. It won’t last forever, but I have no way of predicting or controlling how long it will last. I have no way of controlling the depth to which I’ll go, or the length of my stay. And while I long for the night, the lack of control frightens me.
Instead, I keep myself medicated–just enough to allow me to think clearly but still be able to feel. To be able to push off the need for solitude and reflection. To feel the darkness creeping in, but to will it away with a flurry of activity.
Each time I push it away, my heart breaks a little. I so desperately desire it. I need it. But I can’t. I can’t do that to the ones I love. I can’t do that to my future–for to allow the darkness to take control is to risk failing out of school. To allow the darkness in is to risk causing pain to the ones I love. They are not worth the risk.
Lord, have mercy on me a sinner.
