darkness

There are certain subjects I don't talk about, on purpose. There are reasons why I speak in ambiguities and don't divulge a plethora of information. Mostly it's self protection. I, like almost everyone else, have demons that haunt me. I have lived some hellish experiences. I have endured some intense horrors. There is only one person in my life who has heard the most discussion about them all.

To talk about them launches me into really dark places in my mind. And it's amazing how discussing even one, in the most intense of abstract ways, has me now two days into this turmoil and inner struggle, to find my laughter again. Reliving the horror. Revisiting the experience. It's crazy how long the mind can remember things that seem so insignificant.

I "grieve" by retreat. I internalize and analyze and lose sleep. While so many understand me to be very open, and vocal, in my heartaches I am guarded beyond measure.

The truth is, I am a pretty screwed up person. I don't think I've ever really known many people who are capable of handling that. People like the jokes. They like the silliness. They like the aspect of me that is strong and supportive and accepting. People like that I tell them when they're being an idiot. People have grown to expect that, to need that, to want that. I have grown to want, need, and expect it as well. It's sort of how I navigate the world. But they don't genuinely take to well to a friend who disappears (for no apparent reason) and seems completely withdrawn and disconnected. Not a criticism of them. I completely understand it in every way.

When the darkness comes, it transcends like an avalanche. Society would probably label it as depression. I think that's a dirty little word that people use to define sadness. To call someone depressed is to completely trivialize an incredible amount of sorrow and pain. I don't call my periods of darkness depression. I acknowledge them for what they are: grief. Grief sucks, but it is just as necessary as laughter. You can't have one without the other. But god forbid anyone should ever find contentment in unhappiness. Society can't tolerate that.

The grief of that experience is still with me. I carry it around, and sometimes it decides it needs to be center stage for a while. I learned a long time ago that I have to dive into grief when it comes. I refuse to suppress it or ignore it. Living in the moment requires me to do that. It requires me to experience everything, good or bad.

It's hard for Chief to be married to me in these times. It's hard to watch the person you love ache in ways you can't fix or understand. Does he navigate these times perfectly? No. Quite honestly he tends to disintegrate somewhat. It's no critique on him. I would struggle too. I genuinely have, when his periods of darkness have descended on him.

The greatest lesson I have learned from these periods is that there is still joy in darkness. There is still peace in grief. My God doesn't stop being my God because my heart hurts. He sees all and knows all, and a day will come when there will be no more tears and no more mourning and no more darkness.