Somewhere between the day’s culinary ventures and my afternoon cat nap, my upswing took a left turn and slipped through my hands as an overwheling sadness gripped something deep within. It’s not depression. Although both take their time to pass, they are different.
Depression builds and settles in for the long haul, flirting with hopelessness at every step as it balances on a razor-thin edge between rock bottom and complete debilitation, whereas sadness is a dull ache in the heart that seems to appear out of nowhere and usually passes in a relatively short amount of time compared with severe depression.
If they were colors, depression would be black and sadness, blue. Both leave bruises that eventually heal. And that is key to remeber, as I wade through the possible reasons for this sudden, unwelcome emotion.
I don’t have a reason today, whereas in my depression I could pinpoint it all. And that is the most frustrating part. It’s a feeling akin to losing a loved one or missing someone you loved deeply. There is this deep need to release tears that are welling up inside, yet there’s nothing left.
Maybe it’s the aches and pains of starting early sobriety all over again. It truly could be as simple as that. Not that recovery is simple.
I’m just frustrated and a bit concerned. I had a great few weeks. I was motivated, my energy returned, I was patient with others and myself, I was cooking and writing and it’s the first time since I’ve been in this apartment that I haven’t wanted to run out the door begging for an escape at the bar. I settled in quite nicely and I was having a good time doing it.
I’m concerned because there is this nagging feeling that my upswing was just a fluke and the black raven has actually not flown away. But I know better than to project that fear. This too shall pass.
The weather has been gloomy, cold and wet for days. We’ll see if this inexplicable sadness slips away tomorrow when the sun comes out. As for now, I pour it a cup of tea tonight, sit with it and dream of drawing a chamomile bath in candlelight.
Overtime, I’ve learned the language. In sadness, you become friends as you both sift through hope and pain. In depression, it becomes you and consumes you. And today isn’t that bad.
There is always tomorrow. And if you can say that, you’re halfway there.