Good morning, dragons~
I have been having a really difficult time battling depression lately. It has been kicking my ass to Mars and back. One of the things that happen when my Depression kicks up include the worst nightmares ever. Tonight, when I could sleep no longer, I decided to go on a small drive and grab a cup of coffee. Driving, especially at night, tends to be very relaxing for me. Then the most wonderful thing happened.
“The Real Folk Blues” off the Cowboy Bebop OST came on and, this is going to sound very strange, I swear I could feel my brother’s presence sitting there beside me in my car as I kept on driving. He loved music and he loved to race cars, and this was the song he had always played on the piano when he felt rather melancholy, and it was always a wonderfully bittersweet masterpiece.
I thought I was going crazy, but then after a moment’s contemplation, I came to understand that my brother was always my guardian angel, even before his death. He was my best friend, my partner in delinquent shenanigans, my mentor, my parent, my number one supporter in life. Why wouldn’t his spirit be there to comfort me during this very dire period that I’m going through? Why wouldn’t he come to me during a night drive with a song that holds so much sentimentality to us both?
I pulled over, sipped my coffee, closed my eyes, and then thought about him. I imagined him physically sitting there beside me, elongated fingers dancing across an invisible bed of 88-black-and-white-keys as we both just basked in the music for its six minutes of duration. My heart started to feel lighter. A small smile touched my lips, even with tears burning behind sleep-deprived brown eyes. It was in this moment that I knew everything would pass eventually…
The thing with Depression is that once it takes over your mind and your heart, everything turns into a thick, black fog; an atmospheric bog of suffocation. For me, it’s my ability to see the positive and the good things in my life. Such as the support of my partner, who is the most wonderful person to have entered my life (aside from my brother, of course), and my kitties. A blog that may not be dripping with success, but manages rather well for what it is. Friends who may live far away, but are only a phone call or text message away and are always willing to listen no matter the time of day. Worst of all, when Depression takes over, I become incapable of seeing the good and positive within myself…
My vision and mind become so muddled that I cannot feel or recognise the strength within myself; the strength to say: FUCK YOU! I WILL fight you, I WILL survive, and I WILL NOT allow you to consume me, particularly as it fucking consumes me.
This drive, this song, this imprint left behind on my life by the most extraordinary person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing–it reminds me that FUCK YOU is the magical phrase and I know that while I don’t feel fantastic now, I will one day. One day, I will feel strong and capable, good and positive again. That’s what my brother taught me, especially when dealing with Depression, there is ALWAYS that ONE DAY where it won’t hang over you like the Grim Reaper, where you can breathe, where you can be free.
Know, that if you are fighting Depression, you too shall have your ONE DAY. Please, don’t give up, no matter how much the fog threatens to suffocate you. Look to the skies, my friend, you will find air and you will find reprieve. I promise you.