Life, interrupted

December 14, 2011

Moments

It’s 7 a.m. and I am standing in front of the mirror. The heaviness I’ve been feeling for weeks is now weighing me down. My shoulders slumped, I don’t have the strength to do anything more than lift my head.

I stare at my reflection. The dark circles under my eyes are the battle scars of a silent war; physical manifestations of the unrest in my mind. I am exhausted. I am weak.

I continue to stare, confused. I am unrecognizable, a stranger to myself. I search for the light in my eyes, but cannot see it. A single tear has taken up residence and stopped just shy of falling. It forms a barrier and those that come after it cannot escape. They accumulate to form an unexplained wave within me. In desperation I begin to tread—it is a reflex–but my strength is compromised. I am caught underneath. I cannot breathe. I feel as if I’m drowning and I reach out hoping to be rescued.

Note from the author:

Depression is a bitch without feeling. Her presence creates shame, so we do our best to hide her. Only in acknowledging her existence can we begin to change how she affects us.

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About Libby Julia

Libby Juliá-Vázquez is a writer and communications professional, living life in Chicago, one random moment at a a time.

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2 Comments on “Life, interrupted”

  1. Bitsy Says:

    Thank you for sharing this, Libby.

    Reply

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. 5 steps to letting go of the life you NEVER had | Moments in My Head - December 6, 2012

    [...] I have to figure out another way to deal with my reality that won’t bring me back to a depressed state every November. After a lot of thinking I thought, maybe it’s okay to cry about it; to be [...]

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