Sometimes I think of depression as being a big ball of grey wool, wrapped around a black core. Made up of lots of threads, circling and intertwining. Most of the time, and with effort, you can keep all of the ends of those threads tucked in, with just a couple escaping at any one time. 

Sometimes, though, things get out of hand. You feel like you’ve kept the yarn wrapped around the core too long, it yearns to escape and wreak havoc over your life and emotions. The threads become looser, one by one each of the ends becomes untucked and start trailing away from you. You try hard to keep reaching for the threads, to keep them hidden away, to keep the darkness inside wrapped up and contained. But it’s not always possible. You can’t manage all of the threads at once. You feel like you’re losing your mind, one thread at a time. You try to be strong, to carry on. I tell people that it’s ok to let go sometimes- they don’t have to keep themselves together all the time. It’s ok to say “I’m not coping”. I’ll give the advice but I won’t take it myself.  Instead I sit, hugging myself, trying to hold the threads together by sheer force of will, but instead end up tying myself up in knots with the effort of just existing from day to day. And it mostly does feel like I’m just existing. I get up. I just about manage to walk the dog. I work. I come home exhausted. If I do anything at the weekend, I start the next week even more tired than when I finished the last. If I do nothing at the weekend, I feel as though I exist only to work, and that’s no way to live. 

Something has to give. 


Author: Tracy

Streaky bacon for the soul. Comforting, sometimes salty. Arty. Obtuse. Taker of photographs. Contradictory.

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