Every night at 6pm sharp, most of America tunes in for their daily update on the world’s latest news, or at least that’s how it was when I was growing up.
The routine was the same every night: the newscasters would read the headlines, preview the weather, start with the most dangerous and sexy stories, then on to the rest of it.
It seems over the last months I have had a different kind of show occurring: nightly depression. Sure it is there during the day, but it seems when the light fades and I am left to my thoughts, my brain is hard wired to do the same as NBC. I go up to bed and am met with the briefing of what is sad in my life, what’s the worst that I am doing, and what is wrong with where I am headed. Instead of an overview on the world’s news, my brain plays the stories and feelings in my head. All sad, disappointing, and cruel. And what is a person to do?
At first, I thought, just never be alone. It worked for a while. I’d surround myself with people constantly and keep busy by interacting until just before falling asleep. It wasn’t a permanent solution. It couldn’t be. I was becoming to reliant on others.
After that, I tried journaling. It helped at first. I was able to understand and reveal to myself some thoughts I did not know I had, but sadly, it too, had its limits.
Still after that, I tried prayer. Soothing yes, but still not quite taking away my sorrows.
It isn’t until tonight that I realize, I may have to accept where I am with this depression. It is a scar I wear from the accident, something I will keep working to improve upon, yet still, an item that may always be there. I can continue to pray, think, journal, and work through it, but right now, the wound is still too fresh for it to be completely healed.