Ghost in the Fog

"Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog where no one notices the contrast of white on white."

I made a ridiculous deal with myself. By sheer will I was not going to be sad any more. I'm not good at it. I'm tired of it. Back when I was sick and still without a diagnosis, I even started telling doctors that I thought I should be more depressed and maybe that was an actual symptom...a lack of depression. I'm just not wired for it I suppose. Now I can't imagine a person on this planet that would call me outwardly happy either. I'm more of an even keeled kind of person or perhaps someone who had a good degree of control over her emotions. These sporadically-triggered bouts of intense sadness are throwing me for a loop and I want it to stop. I want the control back. Crying doesn't make me feel any better.

"And I walk in the air between the rain, through myself and back again. Where? I don't know."

I've always believed that knowledge and objective introspective thought were the key to understanding and peace. Now in some ways I'm wandering in the dark among my thoughts without a flashlight, compass or map. This is all new and I believe it's altered me on a fundamental level. We've all heard stories of people 'changing' due to some tragic event or hitting bottom in some fashion. Frankly, I never believed this. People don't change. Now I'm telling you that for me it's almost like a veil was lifted and I see life clearer. The here and now. What's important and what really isn't. It's the future I can no longer see and this scares me.

"And she walks along the edge of where the ocean meets the land just like she's walking on a wire in the circus."

I don't want to be unhappy and at the same time I feel guilty when I am happy. It's as if I'm doing some kind of disservice to Tom's memory by being happy. I know it's not rational and I know for a fact he wouldn't want me falling into a depressive state. Yet the thought won't leave.

"But the girl in the car in the parking lot says, Man you should try to take a shot. Can't you see my walls are crumbling?"

I don't like being alone. I miss having someone to share in my thoughts, my successes and to offer me emotional support when my illness is causing me pain, physically or emotionally. I miss my best friend. I need to make sure that vulnerability doesn't lead me somewhere or to someone that would in the end cause more harm. Then I wonder, really, what do I have to offer anyway. I have a treatable, but incurable illness with varying levels of symptoms. Tom was stuck with it, we didn't know this going into our relationship. I often felt bad for him that he had to deal with this added hardship. I'm not 'normal' on pretty much any level. That should be apparent by now. Tom wasn't either. It took us a long time to find each other and it's terribly unfair that our time was this limited. A short story instead of a novel.

"Will you catch me if I'm falling. Will you catch me cause I'm falling down on you."

Song lyrics from 'Round Here' by Counting Crows

Painting "Sand Dune Crow"