I tried to write a blog post several times today, to no avail. The thing is, I've been sinking, slowly into a pit of the blahs. I've been in a funk all day and try as I might, I haven't been able to shake it.
So I honestly couldn't come up with anything to write about that wouldn't make me seem like a negative Nelly.
And then I remembered that when I am in these funks is exactly when I should write. So I did.
And the poem below is what I came up with. For the record, I'm sharing it with you pretty much unedited, first draft version (which I seldom ever do)...but here it is, it should show you the mood I was in all day:
As I walk down the hall,
feeling the sun on the back of my neck
I know better.
As I approach the door,
Leaving behind the warm familiarity
I know I should stop.
It isn’t too late yet
To turn back
I can still take control
Make the choice
Not go in.
I stop in front of the door
Take a deep breath
And sneak a peek behind me.
It’s all there
Where I came from
Where it’s safe, and warm, and bright.
This end of the hall is dark
Behind the door…
I should turn around.
But like a moth drawn to a flame
I can’t stop
I place my hand on the doorknob and turn
Push it open
Instantly I feel the cold
Before I’ve even stepped in the room
My breath is stolen from me
Dark thoughts invade my mind
I sigh, almost cry
Feeling the pull
Knowing I should turn
But I can’t.
I step through
Let it wrap its icy arms around me
Pull me into the gloom
Before closing the door behind me
I look back once again
See the light beginning to fade in the distance.
It’s not too late
I can step back through the door
Walk right back up that hallway
For a while, I stand in the threshold
Unable to choose
Unable to decide
Unable to give in completely, but unable to walk away
And then I close the door.
Step back up the hallway
Let the sun shine on my face.
With each step I take away from the door
I feel lighter, brighter, safer
I breathe easier.
I wipe the tears from my eyes and realize I shed them
Not out of pain, but out of joy
For my freedom.
For my strength
For this time I was able to walk away.
It’s not always this way
Some days the force in the room is too strong and I give in
Some days I don’t come out for hours
Some days I don’t come out at all
On no day can I predict it
On no day can I understand it
Depression…always lurking, calling, seducing.
Copyright - CandidKarina 2009