In my life, I’ve heard my fair share of lies.
[You’re the only one for me. I don’t know what those text messages mean. I didn’t realize you thought this was more than a few good nights together…. You’ve misunderstood.]
I suppose I’ve told my fair share of lies.
The worst lie, however, is the one my Depressed Brain tells me. Every day. At unexpected intervals. So I never build up a tolerance, and I never know how to prepare.
Some days, it is a whisper. Others, it is like a crushing weight. A hurricane (?).
[What does that sound like…A hum. Then a constant drum beat. Then a wail. Shrieking.]
You are all alone.
I don’t want to feel alone. But some days, I do. That’s ok. But my Depressed Brain says it is Alone – with a capital A. Which means this is never, ever going to end.
And there is no fantasy, no daydream, I can escape to when this happens. I used to dream I could travel in time. Maybe I would be a frontiersman, roughing it. But free.
Then I would fantasize. But my fears shame me now. I am crippled – I can’t even imagine the release. Just one moment with my husband is beyond me. Even in my head.
Death is living. A prolonged cry of pain.
If the lies aren’t true, then the once and future cancer will be. [That is what my Depressed Brain feeds me now.]
On the bad days, I crumble. And I truly am alone. No one is allowed near me – not even me.
But some days, it is different. I can overcome.
At least, when it is early morning.
[At least before that depressed brain wakes up.]
Then I sing to her.
It might sound something like this……
[In response to the Daily Prompt: Together]