A Conversation for Talking Point: Coping with Depression


Post 1


A few days ago, I met a lady friend.
When I was 21, she (17) was my girlfriend for half a year.

In 2000 I searched and found her by using an add in the national newspaper.
"Searching and meeting a prior love after thirty years".

Well, since then we see each other twice every year and we have a regular e-mail contact, about twice a week.

So we met again and we both liked it. We were eating along a canal,
in the inner city. This time we talked a while about our experiences as a child at home. It appeared that we both left home and went to a boarding school. So not very happy as a child, although it did not destroy - according to her point a few - that deeply in her, as it did in mine, and I think she is right.

Last night I slept poorly.
There are a few reasons,I can think of as a cause.
The suïcide of a woman in my apartment complex, last week, etc. etc.

A depression came in me this afternoon as a real tornado.
It threw me in a dark and very dangerous ravine.
My whole existence became extremely fragile. Like a sucking power of darkness, that takes all energy out of me. A power I can not stand up to.
A black force with a poisonous nature. Very dangerous.

This afternoon I tried to get at least some rest. So I put my inner life first and all the others besides of it.
Little by little I discovered what had happened.

I had touched my childhood and the spook of my early days was set free and overwhelmed me by its power.

I went into the kitchen and vomited the complete content of my stomach.
Within a few hours, I began to feel that something was getting alive in me again.

I’m still scared by it all. Frightened.

I do hope I learned my lesson today, never, ever to touch the wounds of my childhood again. Only as part of a therapy. But even then many therapists told me; “It cannot be healed anymore”.
It is nót a taboo; I used writing, talking, painting, therapy, etc. to grow.
But it will remain a landscape with many landmines for me.

So it's more wisdom than taboo, to leave the passed as it was.

Tomorrow there will be another day.
And every day is unique.
Like any of us is.

I’m shocked my life can be suddenly so close to its last hours.
I reacted in a mature way, which I could not have done a few years ago.

I have written here in my journals about my childhood at “home” and I’m very satisfied I did.
But I don’t believe, I will ever write anything more about it.

I am not that child anymore.
I have become a mature man.

Never again.


Post 2


It can be pure angst (and not that much sadness, etc.)

Rare moment

Post 3


In the afternoon of this day in July I fell asleep for two hours.

Happens very rarely, although not thát rarely in the last 12 months,
compared to the times before.

I feel very fragile, because of it.
A "natural sleep" = that was not fabricated.
I feel fragile, but in a positive way.

It all maybe just a bit for me , but it feels like "life".

A peacefull calm, a bit of tranquillity.

Like a pause in a continuously struggle to survive.

For a moment no struggling, fighting, hoping, forgetting, seizing,
learning, conquering.
Not even enjoying.

A moment of calm, asif life itself takes a rest and I joined it in my hours of sleep and after that.

I can feel life "breathing".

Just for a moment, no lack of "breath", but a forest lake, full of it.

Alfredo July 16.

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