As the fog descends

Image source: Sillier than Sally 

Depression is like a fog that descends in over the sea it starts out slowly and it is still kind of clear you can see to the other side. Then gradually but ever so slowly it becomes thicker and thicker and you wake up one day and discover that you can not only not see the other side but it is so thick and heavy that the fog is sitting on every part of your body. As though there are weights on every part of your body making movement incredibly slow and heavy, feeling as though you are dragging yourself through. Then tears the flow and flow without an off switch and they just fall without the release that comes with crying.

The loss of the view to the other side starts to suck all hope out of everything you do. Once the hope is gone then your brain starts to turn on you as well. The only things you start to hear is how much of a drain on everyone you are and that you are like the fog in their lives. You are a drag, useless, worthless; if you weren’t there in their lives they would have sunshine and rainbows.

In the midst of the fog you start to suffocate. Breathing becomes hard, you start to feel sick in the stomach, a lump develops in your throat, your hand tingles and the thoughts start to race in your mind that you will never see the other side again. So you start trying to frantically move the fog but it doesn’t work. The harder you try to push it out of the way the more your mind starts suffocating you and the harder it is to breathe. This is when you realise that anxiety, depression’s ever present bff has joined the party in the fog!!

To the outside world you put on the smile because how can you possibly explain that you are drowning in fog. The last thing that anyone else needs to hear is about the fog you are living in, you don’t want to burden them. So you smile so they think you are ok. When really every day the fog gets heavier and the anxiety that you will never see the other side again gets more frantic.

You feel a little like a duck cool, calm and graceful on the surface. Meanwhile underneath the water where no one can see your legs are moving faster and faster but you are getting nowhere. The more things feel like they are spinning further and further into the dark pea soup fog, you can’t see which way to turn or even know which way is up and the more you spin the harder it is to breathe until it feels like you might drown. The pain of the emotional fog gets harder and harder to endure. If only there were a way for a light to shine its way through the fog. For you to find the edge for you to hang on, until then you keep fumbling your way through. Trying to drown out the voices screaming at you that you are useless, worthless, unlovable, a failure and will never amount to anything.

It is scary there in the darkness of the thick, suffocating fog, with all the noise. It hurts and it is so lonely. You keep holding on because you don’t want anyone else to feel like this. Then one day as the fog starts to lift ever so slightly, you remember how to breathe again, you can see some lights off in the far off distance, maybe you even see a rainbow that gives you hope through the fog and the promise of a new day.

The fog no matter how thick never lasts forever and it comes and goes like a ghost in the night. You never know why it came and can’t predict how long it will stay but if you can hold on it will pass. It is the holding on in the dark, with the noise, through the loneliness (even in a room full of people) all the while fighting for breath, that is the hardest of all.

This is where I have been for a little while now in the pea soup, struggling to breathe and holding on like hell for the rainbow, the hope and the promise of a new day. I know it will come but I hope it comes soon. In the meantime I will hold on tight to those who love me and believe them when they say that the fog will clear and it will get better.
Hoping you are all doing ok.

Cat xoxo