I remember that I felt as if I were drowning. Everything around me was dark, bleak. The days were interminable and the nights unending; it was like trying to catch your breath underwater. The world around me was muted, painted in gray and black – even the sky had lost its color.
It was an impossible thing to accept, that this was what my life had become. And so, finally, I didn’t. Instead, I sought help for the darkness that had swallowed me. It felt like emerging from a deep sleep, from the very bottom of the ocean, and I was drowsy from slumber. I went to the psychiatrist; I did the work. Light seeped back into the world, slowly and surely, and I was there to see it.
It may never be easy. I do take medication, and I struggle with the fear of a depressive relapse. But the difference is now I know that it ends, that something better is waiting for me once the darkness passes. I see that life is worth living, in all its flaws and imperfections, in all the wonderful and marvelous things that make us human. And that’s because I’m no longer drowning; I can breathe again.
