Healing

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Depression is a disease that has two victims. First, there is the depressed who has through biology or circumstance found themselves at the bottom of a black hole from which they have not the strength or desire to climb out. And in the blackness of their prison they believe they are alone. Unaware that literally thousands share that same prison with them. The second victim is he or she that knows someone who is depressed. They feel helpless and inept to deal with such deep sadness. So, through fear or ignorance they do nothing. And then live in regret and guilt. All the more so if their friend or relation should end their life Ten years ago I found myself in such a hole, a dark prison of my own making from which I was helpless to escape. I have spent many hours on the couch and ingested many hundreds of pills in my journey out. I have always wanted to write about that place but never could quite find the words. Then I heard someone say something about honesty and writing and I suddenly realized what the problem was. I had always tried to write about the inside as I stood on the outside. Like an ex-addict talking about addiction. I was trying to let memory and not experience describe the scene. I knew what I had to do. I had found my way out and some days I balance on the edge of a knife to keep from falling back in, like an alcoholic passing the open door of a barroom. But now I knew that I had to willingly go back down there, find the words and come back out. Then I could create a piece filled with enough despair so that every lost soul could recognize themselves in my words and so know they were not alone. But also write words of hope that would encourage those who knew them that there was something they could do; there was a way to help. With the Lord’s help I have endeavored to do just that. Have I succeeded? You be the judge:


Filled with pain and despair
He looks for hope and finds none
He who once carried laughter with him
Like a sweet contagion
Generously spreading it to all he touched
Cannot find even a smile
To ease his suffering

Once he looked to a future
Filled with endless promise
Like a storybook hero
He ran toward it in joyful gallop
On open meadows
Now he cannot find the strength
To even take the next step

Lost
Who can help him?
Indeed, who can even find him?

He cannot call out
His cries have been stolen from him
And what breath he has comes
Uninvited and unwanted

Not that he would ever still that breathe
He has not the strength or courage for that
But neither has he the strength or courage to live
Caught between a death he does not welcome
And a life he will not embrace
He is completely and utterly alone

Is there none that can reach through the darkness?
Is there none that can touch him?

Only that one who would dare confront the darkness
And enter the empty places
Could ever lead another into the light

But can such courage be found?
Where is he who possesses it?

It lies in that heart that can love with no reward
Such a heart will not enter bold and daring into that dark place
But with fear and doubt
Trembling with every step
For it is not courage that prods it onward
And it will not be strength that grants the victory
If victory is to come

Only love is foolish enough to go where none have gone
Only love dares try what reason fears to contemplate
Only love in all its seeming weakness
Is strong enough to find one who is lost to themselves
And carry them where they have no will to follow

Only they who can love that one
Who no longer desires to be loved
Can conquer the darkness and emptiness
Of a life with no hope
And so bring it back to hope again

Where can such a love be found?

In every heart that would risk all
To touch one shrouded by the night
And point him toward the dawn

In every soul that understands
That two can often carry
What one could never bear alone

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