It’s been one of those weeks.
I saw the dark cloud approaching, hovering on the horizon, probably about ten days ago. I spotted it and I ignored it.
For some reason, I thought that denial might work – this time.
And as the cloud approached, I remained naively optimistic. It will be different this time. I can do this. I can win this battle.
I started feeling slightly disconnected – from those around me, from conversations, from life. And I still carried on thinking I would be ok.
Then. Then – the crash. Unable to get out of bed. Unable to answer my phone. Unable to connect – with anyone, anything.
The cloud had enveloped me. I could no longer deny its presence. I could not fight, I had no resources or strength. Nothing.
I felt so sad. Overwhelmed by disappointment. A sense of loss. A sadness at the world we live in, at the suffering of those I love. A sadness and a questioning – of the path I am on, the world I occupy.
I could no longer see, enveloped by blackness. Bleakness.
I have been under the cloud before. And it is horrible. Awful. It is lonely, isolating, enveloping, all-consuming.
No-one should ever have to live under the cloud.
And today? Today, the cloud is still there but there are some rays of light too.
So please don’t worry. I write these words not to alarm anyone, but in the pursuit of honesty and truth. Of vulnerability.
For I spend many years pretending I was strong. And I am not.
I cannot do this on my own.
And I cannot pretend anymore. It’s been one of those weeks.