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Delight, Delirium, and the ways we mark time.
A brush with depression.
I am writing from a fast boat traveling between Gili Air and Bali. The waves are rough and all around me people are vomiting.
This. . . was a last-second thing. I didn’t discover until today that all the early boats tomorrow have been canceled due to a lack of tourists.
With two critical appointments tomorrow in Bali my own choice was to figure out new travel plans, pack my things in an hour, and be on my way.
I expected to feel stressed and anxious, instead, I feel clear headed. My friend helped me out and I was out the door and apparently no longer the sufferer of a sensitive gag reflex.
I feel capable, grounded, supported.
Very different from what my depression was telling me last night.
The lies of depression.
Last night my depression tried to convince me that I’ve been miserable for months, trapped and isolated in a foreign land, sinking into my addictions with no hope for change.
The truth is, depression lies.
Depression often presents itself as mental clarity. The mind is sure that it is seeing things the way the world really is, perhaps for the first time.
