Light Forgotten

Living in the dark or with a blindfold on, you get used to your surroundings in time. You get used to the way things feel. Your water bottle is always in its place, and you know where to reach your hand to find it. You know each medication by the sound and weight of the pills inside. You get accustomed to the absence of your reflection, because mirrors don’t have a purpose in the dark.

Your fingertips know the feeling of every surface. Your body learns which pieces of furniture are weight-bearing and which give in if you fall into them.

In due time, everything has a place in your dark room. You start to trust yourself in the blackness. The dark is so comfortable, you start to forget what things look like in the full light of day.

This is how living with Depression is. After a while, you almost acclimate to it. Unbearable darkness moves into a cloudy dim that you tell yourself is normal. You start to forget who you once were and how to get back to that person again. You say and do all the things you believe you should do- but the reason you are doing them isn’t clear to you any more. You know this world so intimately that you almost forget there is another way to feel.

Hypersensitive to artificial light- to those who talk about JUST “being positive” or “how to be happy” cause you to cover your eyes in pain. These are the things that remind you how intense it has become.

Someone who loves you opens a window a crack. Just enough to let real sunshine and fresh air in. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror for the first time in…too long. You didn’t even realize the dark had become such a companion to you. Now you see the room with a bit of light cast over it. Your comfortable, perfectly laid out room with all of your things at your knowing fingertips: you finally see…a cluttered dusty mess with dangerous obstacles everywhere.

Going back to the dark isn’t comfortable any more. All you want to do now is paw along the wall searching for that window.