I have been living in a type of self made environment without attaching too much to my context, which is not characteristic of me, but it's been a good antidote to a situation, and a coping mechanism when one has to be strong and run around doing the kids stuff, coping with illness, daily life, lack of finances, regret, disappointment, four seasons in one day, confusion (I could go on but won't). And being in the isolation of my home, children, and creative dreams brings optismism and joy, which is how I want to live. It's a short passage on this earth, to be honoured and made the best of, of course!
But what do you do if you begin to suffer, daily, from a phenomenon that you have no control over. It clouds over your world, eats into your body, your mind, your joy. You have no idea what is happening to you. You think you might be mad. You do all the things you used to feel that goosebump feeling and that surge of emotion. And there's nothing. You look into the mirror too often. You feel like a failue. Crying comes a close second to breathing. There seems to be a layer of cotton wool round the surface of your brain which makes it hard to think or dream or create. Yout partner desolately misses the person you used to be.
And then you realise, that you are suffering from depression. Something you have only had fleeting moments with in the past when situations became too much to handle. It's not in your character, you think. You see colours, not grey. Why is this happening?
I have seen depression first hand, in my home. I have run away from the house, to the shops, to the movies, to the boyfriend, countless times to escape the dark room where someone you love almost more than life, is lying in bed all day. Not going to school, hiding from the world, drifting through the house numbed with pills. I was harsh in my judgement. I was of the type to say, just get over yourself. Life is tough, you have to suck it up and keep going. And looking back it's a lesson to us all, to practise compassion and a little humility, to be kind to each other, as Ellen Degeneres says, because you never know when your day will come.
And you know, maybe we'll never know the causes of depression, whether it be long term or post partem or for a few months. For me, it has alot to do with the place I live. It has no trees, is in the middle of nowhere, and has no proper seasons. I feel like an animal in the wrong habitat. The lack of endorphins from doing anything physical probably also doesn't help. This is a town in the midst of an industrial revolution, and while there are plans for a public swimming pool and a gym, at the moment there isn't much. And to walk around the block is to be harassed by builders, because there is continual dust, sand and construction in this town. Admittedly, there are so many ooutdoor adventures to take part in, there's alot for tourists, and if Hennie and I didn't have the two toddlers, I think we could have a blast here for a while. It's a young couple's dream in terms of beach life, quad bikes, fishing, paragliding, space and exploring. All the fun of desert meets ocean. Not many malls and movies and situations that I enjoyed in the metropolises overseas, but still alot to offer. It has a strange effect on me, and I have no choice but to identify the causes, and carry on. I take deep breaths, and write down what I am thankful for every day. A bit of yoya in my room helps. Small, gentle daily routines to keep the demons at bay. Tuna sandwiches, Frappe's, vitamins, most of all my children. Seeing their joy, the smile on Natalie's face which bowls me over every day, that helps. The small routine of playschool with Ashlee, my housekeeper Maria's dignity, that helps. And most of all knowing that my children see nothing but the small things, and they jump with joy and keep my feet firmly on the ground, even if I have to close the blinds sometimes to shut out the inexplicable solitary harshness that is my environment.
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