We're All Mad Here

“'But I don’t want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.

'Oh, you can’t help that,' said the Cat. 'We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.'

'How do you know I’m mad?' said Alice.

'You must be,” said the Cat. 'or you wouldn’t have come here.'”

Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

 

I have dreams of one day, out running this, walking long enough to defeat it.

 

 

I watched an interesting documentary on depression on Hawaii PBS late last night. On the show, Peter Yarrow of Peter, Paul, and Mary described his decades long (and ongoing) battle with depression, its' effects, and how it made him feel. It also focused on other individuals who shared their experiences regarding depression.  It made some valid points that no one, even someone else going through depression, can know how I am feeling. Telling someone who has depression you know how they feel and it will get better is absolutely the wrong thing to say.

 

 

See, depression is like a demon on my back, ever present, always willing, ready, and able to rear its ugly head.  It brings with it the eradication of hope, regardless of what or who you have in your life (for instance, Mr. Jane, Little Jane, and Littlest Jane).  This demon can annihilate you no matter how much you have materially, emotionally, or spiritual. It knows no boundaries, anyone and everyone is fair game for an attack, white, black, hispanic, rich, poor, famous, church mouse, it strikes peoples of all types and backgrounds

The feeling(s) of depression, half demon, half angel. Never can

tell which one will strike on any given day or at any given

moment.

There is no shame in being sick, so carry on, moment by moment, my sweet survivors.

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