The Fog, the Darkness, the Dream, the Glimmer: A Moment with Bill Reflection

The wispy tendrils reach out, nearer, nearer, finally caressing me, gently, lovingly. I am frightened….I am enthralled….I fear, I ache, I long, I shrink from it, beg for it….seemingly can’t live without it.

“The fog is like a cage without a key.”

Elizabeth Wurtzel

It will swallow me whole if I allow it to do so. It will release me if I seek help, or release me if I choose to end it all. A play on words, perhaps, but no plaything this depression. It is real, it is suffocating and it may well end my life.

Can anyone hear my words?

Can anyone see my tears?

You see me on the streets. You hear me speaking, but do you really see me? Hear me? Feel me?

I’m drowning here in a sea of blinders, seven-point-two billions cell mates but I’m all alone.

How can that be so?

How can that be possible?

Will you reach out for me before it’s too late?

Hello darkness my old friend.

Darkness be my pillow

Wrap me in your obsidian emptiness.

I once feared you, old friend, but now we are lovers, you and I.

I know you would never hurt me.

I know you will kill me.

Which will it be today?

Which will it be tomorrow?

I cannot see with eyes wide-open. I cannot feel with arms outstretched. I cannot comprehend an end, the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, the guiding beacon of hope, it eludes me, laughs at me and ultimately, was never meant for me.

I’ve come to talk with you again.

Be my pillow.

Let me rest my head and swallow the darkness. Let me breathe it in, lather my skin with it, inject it between my toes and feel its loving arms around me.

I’m coming home, lover.

I had a dream last night.

I could see clearly in an absence of light.

The cold inside of me warmed me and gave me comfort.

I had surrendered, and in that surrender I found peace.

There were no troubles, no irksome doubts, no self-incriminating finger-pointing.

The years compressed into one moment of clarity.

Blaming was useless. What ifs served no purpose.

It was here. It was now.

I was here. I was now.

No more crossroads. Only one path remained, and I could choose it or perish.

Slowly, tentatively I reached out, not allowing hope but still

I realized

Awareness.

I am not alone.

There are others in this maze with me.

I feel their pain. They feel mine.

Is that enough?

Could it really be that simple?

Was the answer always there, hidden in the shroud, a spectral puzzle awaiting solution?

I am not alone.

Say it with me. I know you’re out there. Hear my words…..I am not alone.

I want to believe.

You want to believe.

Let’s believe together?

Depression affects over twenty million Americans.

It is a disabling mental health condition

Excessive feelings of guilt, sad moods resembling grief, no explanation for the darkness, feelings of sadness, hopelessness…persistent, severe, robbing a person of daily pleasures and causing irritability, and sometimes…

Thoughts of suicide.

I’ve been there.

I suspect many of you who are reading this have been there as well.

I wanted to believe….but believe in what?

I wanted what everyone else had….but how do you reach the unreachable?

Listen, I don’t have a psychology degree. I’m not a psychologist.

I’m a simple writer.

I’m a simple human being.

All I can offer to you is my experience, strength and hope.

I had foreplay with the fog. I made love to the darkness. I had a dream and I reached for the glimmer.

I do not stand before you with a miracle cure.

I only stand before you with hand reached out and a willingness to grasp yours.

Will you let me?

I believe in the healing power of touch.

I believe that united we can stand, and I believe that my strength can give you strength, and my love of life can be infectious when your heart is open and your mind is desperate enough.

I believe that there is value in every living being, that we all matter, and I believe in the fundamental goodness of mankind.

And I believe in you!

The fog will lift.

The darkness will disappear.

A dream of a glimmering life ahead will be yours.

Take my hand.

Talk to me.

We can do it!

2015 William D. Holland (aka billybuc)