deep-dark-sad-light-elated choice

I was in the dark hole again. Under the covers. And the only measurement of the fact that I exist, are the inhalations I see of the cat's small ribs rising, the fur rising and falling, ever so slowly, beside me. We are breathing together, in near silent unison. Cats sleep 16 hours a day by design. The depressed human sleeps 16 hours a day by default. 


I consider in my half-awake coma, slightly ashamed but less ashamed than exhausted, some of the people I know, strong ones, motivated ones, people with children and alarm clocks that blare before the sun even rises. I recall myself, not that long ago, that I was a welcome member in that club of doing and being and forward-thinking and growing, and right now, here in this comfortable and dark room, picturing myself, eyes closed, in the dark of another room, a spinning room at 6am, sweating, pumping, moving and feeling, almost, almost, almost that I'm becoming Type A. I remember a feeling of pride in that. I felt so productive and in step with inspired others. I felt like someone, maybe, to admire.


But now, there I was, behind the deep blue, heavy IKEA curtains, wondering how this all happened. 


Depression is not an overnight thing usually unless brought on by some tragic loss. And pity parties are a common problem that one wishes to attend night after night. So long as the promise of a happy party is thrown later. Yet you can't really look ahead to that party for the moment. Your focus is here. Here in this ceiling-fan whir, hypnotic cat inhalations, mind-numbness of now. Now.


A call this morning to a friend on the west coast, a friend who embraces the depths of our innately bi-polar natures (all of ours because he thinks this is a choice, that all humans are bi-polar, it's that some choose not to let the pendulum swing to far to either side), freed me somehow. Perhaps the ability to feel great joy, and I mean great, deep, profound joy on the other side of this dark hole is, in its way, not just a choice - yes, a choice - but a gift. 


The light has changed. I can sense it. Fall is here. I can feel it in the hush of the breeze in the evening air. I can see it, a change, a physical one, but also the butterfly flutter of something small yet magnificent happening all around us. 


I picked paint colors today. Finally. Deep, magical, elusive blue. And it's perfectly juxtaposed contrasting color? I haven't decided yet. It will come to me. And soon.