Living in the Abyss

I describe living with depression as living in an abyss.

I am at the bottom of a very deep hole, its dark, the sides are very hard to climb and in the middle of the bottom of the hole is a horrible black lake.

Because Depression is not a static condition, where I am in the Abyss describes where I am in the mental illness.

Sometimes I am underwater in the middle middle of a black lake at the bottom of by Abyss.  I spent nearly two years in bed without a job and this eventually turned into homelessness.  I was underwater during most of that time.

And sometimes I’m on the shore of the lake unable to muster the energy to try climbing the walls. When I first got a job while homeless, this is how I felt.

And sometimes, most of the time these days, I’m climbing up the walls toward the surface. For the last year, I have been trying to figure out a system to get the fuck out of the hole.  Or at least spend more time near the top, where there is at least some light.

Sometimes I get to the edge of the surface.  I can see grand vistas of normal life before I slip back in.  Sometimes these moments only last for a few hours, recently they have lasted for a few days.

I dream of getting out of the Abyss and walking away from the hole.  Too far away to fall back in.   This is probably a fairytale, but I dream of it anyway.