2. Reflect on the Past

18 05 2011

Last April I did what I always do, I watched the seasons changed and enjoyed how the world ebbed and flowed around me – I was a passive observer at the moment, due to lack of employment and general depression towards… everything.

Nonetheless, I searched my home for interesting things to photograph and came about a few fallen buds from our Bleeding Heart.

They had only recently fallen off – I knew by their still vivid color, which contrasted amazingly well against the grays of the soil beneath the plant.

I’ve found I relate a lot of things I see and experience to anxiety and depression, it makes sense because both are often wide expanses for me, eating whole days of my life, which subsequently “pop” out in my eyes/mind.

Seeing these bright flecks against nothingness made me feel small, as if I were¬†similarly, a flower dying from my bland and seemingly endless surroundings. It was almost too much for me to deal with. [Honestly, if you’ve ever suffered from depression, you’d know how random things can just really destroy you.]

I felt myself getting angry, mainly at the situation which was connecting things in my mind. I wanted to feel “normal,” it’s something I’ve always been chasing – I should’ve been fairly okay in my situation: I graduated college, I was healthy, a home, family, friends, and a loving partner. It’s in these moments that I find things go two ways: either you continue to wallow in the annoyance and pain, or, try to piece things together and form a solution/positive momentum (of sorts) towards your goal(s).

It’s strange, outside of these moments, to think of how my mental state could shift so quickly – it’s still tough to even believe it’s possible.

I grabbed one of the buds and held it in my hands, feeling like I was holding much more than a dying flower and rolled it between my fingers. As if I were trying to squeeze life back into the poor bud.

It reminded me that as broken as I felt, there were those in my life willing to hold me together – especially one person in particular.

I felt oddly better after convincing myself of that truth.