I am supposed to name my depression. To me, it has no name, just the symbol of opening and closing like fancy brocade drapes from long ago. The feel of a castle window design with the fancy tiebacks and the heaviness of the huge amounts of fabric matches my inner feeling of weight upon my body and being trapped inside darkness.  During these times, I wander the castle and clean without ever tending the outside gardens, as inside is my protection during these times. No harm. Just tending to my castle and an inner rest and reset, that will allow me to the opening and allow the light to come back into my life. I wish this was easy or had a handbook for those who love me, but thirty-two years ago, this began, and it is a life sentence with much reprieve and abundance of joy. Usually.

Most see happiness, a smile, life well lived, and not a care. I am blessed. Depression does not care. It picked me. The why is a very long list of situations I have coped with proudly and do not carry grudges or a why me attitudes. I am stronger than that and have, as needed, great care in my life. This time, my curtains are closed tight. So, I go back to my lists, activities, eating better, just checking off every box to make sure what I can control is at peace as the tightness of the darkness has nothing to do with my daily life. It hits. A million of my past moments could have triggered it but nothing rings true, nor would it matter as having an answer to the why does not let the light in…you would think it would, but no.

As for the naming. It is a drape. That is all I am giving it. Not a full name or cutsey code. A drape. An ugly brocade drape with dust and cobwebs hidden in the folds. To me, the color varies, but a faded burgandy is what usually pops into my head. Now, the hard stuff. I must open the drape and allow myself to feel and do what I enjoy on great days. It is under my control. Most days, the drape is open, and I am accepting of joy, but when I am entwined in a battle, the heaviness of the material is like a weight that just lies atop of me stopping my every desire. I hate these days. On these days, I pull back the drape and stay busy inside my castle. I clean. Workout. Clean. Take a break. Etc. My habits form around what I can control during times of chaos. It works. The drapes fight closure, and then I insert other activities outside of cleaning frenzy. I am not there. Not today. Nothing could get me to leave. Nothing. I know I am not alone. I continue to march on until going out and being with others sounds tolerable, and eventually, it will be great again. But not now. I have floors to clean.