Fear is a monster. Lately it’s been dogging my steps, laying in wait to attack when I’m at my weakest. Like when I’ve crawled into bed looking for the peace of sleep. Then it comes stalking, sneaking up and into me. Rolling in my belly like snakes.
It hisses at me. Forces imagery to play in my head over and over again, all the negative possibilities, all the horrors that await me on the morrow. It plays with me, does fear. It’s evil little needles needling at me. Poking at the embers I try to keep cool and deep beneath my psyche.
Fear lives in the dark. The darkest part of me is the back of my mind where I put things I don’t want to think about.
Fear picks them up and juggles them mercilessly in front of me, laughing and taunting all the while.
And why? Why do I bequest to this entity so much of my time? So much of my will?
Because it is my nature. Human nature. Primitive, basic human nature. We fear what we don’t know. How would we have survived as a species if we hadn’t jumped at unfamiliar noises in the night, or prepared ourselves against imagined harms that could befall us? Fire, famine, drought, all great bringers of fear.
And then there’s the need for shelter and warmth and protection. Fear comes out to play when these are the things we feel close to losing.
I know that fear thrives in the dark but it is powerful enough to keep me locked inside myself. I’m afraid to talk about what scares me because I don’t want to be judged, or shunted aside, or have my fears brushed off as nothing.
My brain, my body, my soul are all riddled with fear. They are not nothing.
I hate that I fear so much. So, okay, a little light – I am afraid that I will lose my home. I am afraid that I will run out of income and not be able to work. I am afraid that I am sick and will get sicker. I am afraid that my body is frail and becomes weaker every day. I am afraid that I don’t have the strength to fight all of this. I am afraid that I am just waiting for death and that is the best that I can do. I am afraid that I will utterly fail my child. I am afraid that I have wasted my life and there is nothing I can do to get it back.
For all these admissions, I don’t feel any better. I still feel small, and scared.
In my life there has always been light at the end of the tunnel. But I am afraid I have crossed some line I didn’t see coming and now it’s too late to turn things around.
Is this all my depression? Is that the root of all of it? I don’t know. I know that when I am not in a depression I feel better, more optimistic. But age is creeping up on me and it feels like it is leaching that optimism away.
I was so excited about starting a new medication a few months ago but right now things are really dark. Maybe it’s the winter that’s adding to all the depression and fear. It is so dark for so long in Canada in the winter.
Today it rained and most of the snow melted. Then the wind blew cold again and the lights flickered.
I don’t even know where I’m going with this. Put it down to me sharing a little more of what it’s like to live with bipolar2/hypomania and the depression that goes with it.
I hope at least that maybe someone will read this and know they are not alone in their pain. Or if you know someone with depression you won’t brush aside their symptoms.
We are in a dark and scary place.