Kites

I’m holding on by a thread
There’s not much of a breeze today
I keep tripping on the clouds, yeah
And I’m no use to you if I fall down

Song lyrics live in my head. I am never far from music and my soundtrack is always on shuffle although I have many “favorites”. I love the way music evokes emotion and memories, and the imagery sometimes parallels life.   The songs in my head are not always a direct reflection of what I have going on emotionally, but often… often, they are.  This song is one that frequently plays in my head. Its called “Kites” by Anik Khan. Depending on my mood or state of being its an analogy for so many things in my life. Most often it is the soundtrack to my relationship with depression.

All this back and forth, tug of war
I don’t like you anymore
You see I wouldn’t mind if you just let me go

I don’t talk about my depression often. I mention it in passing sometimes. I say all the time that I’m maintaining.  I may make a casual statement of feeling down or tired that doesn’t even begin to touch the complexity of the tug of war it takes to function. Tired is a symptom and by-product of depression. It’s what you tell people when you don’t want to talk about what’s wrong. Which is a lot. Sadness and emptiness. Defeat and fear. The overwhelming sense of ALONENESS that usually accompanies depression. There have been times it is metaphorically my sense of self, my belief in myself, my self-worth, and my joy weighed against the thought that not one of those things matters at all.

I can feel the wind beneath me
It’s on you keep believing
Something needs to give right now
Or this ain’t working out

At some point in living with chronic depression you learn to deflect from it. It’s definitely a learned response. Its like a kite on the wind. Dipping and flipping to stay afloat on the wind, but still anchored to its string.  You deflect because you get tired of people telling you they don’t understand why you’re depressed because X,Y,&,Z is good in your life. (Which translates into “you don’t have a right to feel that way”) They tell you that you are “better than “ depression. (Which translates into “why are you being weak”). They tell you to pray it off. (Which translates into a casual dismissal of disinterest. “Tell it to God ‘cause no one else cares”.) The black community is notorious for sweeping mental health issues under the rug. If you don’t talk about it , it doesn’t exist.  Get up Bridgette, get out of bed Bridgette. Go DO something. You’ll feel better.

I’ll float away or fall with grace
Either way, it’s all the same
I think it’s about time I do this on my own

Except then, the acts of DOING SOMETHING, of maintaining – just proves that I’m fine right? I get up everyday and go to work. I grocery shop and care for my household. I went to nursing school and now I care for others. I’ve worked two or three jobs simultaneously. I make jewelry (which is actually an outlet and mental break). I function. I’m busy so I don’t have time to let anxiety creep in. If I don’t stay in the bed under the covers I don’t get lost in the comfortable nothing-ness the covers provide. When you’re depressed and you do normal activities of daily living or worse- when you actually accomplish things, people REALLY don’t believe you’re depressed.  They call it high functioning depression and it’s a hell of a Catch 22. The more I do the less depressed I seem, the less depressed I’m seen as, the less people listen, the less they listen, the smaller and more alone I feel- so I try to stay busy and function so I don’t get lost in my shadows. Get it?

There’s so many giants around me
Trying to stay out of the way of shadows
Open for some air to support me
‘Cause it’s hard not to feel small through my travels

To be fair, its not that people don’t want to listen or don’t try to understand. I know really good people. My folks. My support system. They try. They love me. Rationally I KNOW I’m not alone. The bitch of it is, depression is not rational. It doesn’t give a damn about what makes sense. Remember that when someone tells you they feel depressed. You don’t have to understand it. Its not your battle. Its theirs. Just help them fight. I have developed a very (un)healthy relationship with my depression. I maintain, it stays at bay enough for me to function. Instead of fighting the emptiness all the time, I’ve learned to allow myself to get empty so that so happiness and joy in small doses can make me full again. I am a fierce proponent of joy in the form of laughter. Its healing and hopeful. As long as keep my sense of humor, I’ll stay here on earth. I lost it once. Without a whole lot of detail or drama, I’ll just say it was a scary, dark time. I don’t think anyone knew until after just how close I was to not being here. Remember that too. Everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about. It’s not the moment of weakness that will take someone out. Its that moment of strength to not be tired anymore. Those moments can go either way.

If you go steer, please don’t stray
Oh, that grey keep me away
I don’t need this rain right now, yeah
‘Cause you’re no use to me if I fall down

I’m choosing to share this now because recently a friend told me something else I wrote helped her stay here. It broke me all the way down and then filled me all the way back up. Be kind often. Don’t tell someone why they shouldn’t feel a way about something. If you tell them to pray on it, get on your knees with them and pray. Fill someone up. Be a strong twine on their kite against the wind. Be the kite tail with bows for balance in the wind. “Kites” is not just about the weight of depression for me. Its also about having the wind to float above it and fly free for a bit. Its the ability to fall with grace, knowing I can pull myself back up.

Kites in the skies
Kites in the skies

Be the light. You matter.