That’s what my family likes to call the process of getting hold of one’s life again through the aid of anti-depressants & anxiety medication.  It suits, yes?

& it is amazing.

On a Thursday night two weeks ago, I curled up in our bed, uncontrollably shaking & sobbing under the covers while my son screamed in the other room.  The Momma rubbed my cheek & I begged to die.  I was not suicidal; I could not imagine harming myself.  There is a distinct difference.  But I simply did not want to exist anymore.  I couldn’t handle the pain.  The guilt.  The overwhelming sense of failure & lack of control.  & I just wanted to disappear.  If I could have found the words, I would have begged to be admitted.  Somewhere.  Somehow.  Only for the sweet release of being sedated until I couldn’t feel anymore.

Today, I took a walk during my lunch hour.  I felt so full of life.  I loved my shadow, felt a spring in my step, felt the warmth of the sun.  & cursed myself for ever wishing I didn’t exist.  Then I  saw these two trees, side-by-side:

They reminded me of myself.  One, stark & barren.  Desolate.  Empty.  Struggling in winter.  The other beautiful, blooming, changing, growing.  Somehow, these two co-exist side-by-side.  Polar opposites in the same climate.  & to me, they are beautiful.  Some day, I’ll be this again:

All blooms.

Yet right now, everything in my life feels like a contradiction.  The “light switch” effect of depression, as I like to call it.  On. Off.  Dark.  Light.  There are no grey areas.  One moment, I’m begging for inpatient.  The next moment, I want to crawl into the crib with my son.  Eventually, the medicine & therapy will even me out.  Until then, I remain a contradiction.

The girl that can post about PPD one day & throw a party the next (albeit with lots of help).  A girl with pearls & a tattoo.  That wears a dress & sneakers together.  & eats a vegetable sandwich while drinking chocolate milk.