lullaby

Here is our new clock. I absolutely adore it and think it will look marvelous on our blue green walls in the living room. Now just to hang it...

I think I am getting a cold. I feel like it never ends for me. I start feeling a little better then get food poisoning, I feel better from that then a cold. Sometimes I wonder if God is up there laughing at me. I will just lay down on my chaise with my soft ivory blanket with the blue coral and rest. But I'm tired of resting. So tired of it in fact.

I am reading Unholy Ghost: Writers on Depression. Its stunning and personal, makes me feel less alone. To know someone else is tired of making breakfast every day. Someone else can't keep a gun in the house because they don't trust themselves. Someone else has developed precise checks and balances in their mind in order to stay on earth. One poem in the book that hits me hard:

When I was born, you waited
behind a pile of linen in the nursery,
and when we were alone, you lay down
on top of me, pressing
the bile of desolation into every pore,

And from that day on
everything under the sun and moon
made me sad-

My doctor and I have tracked (as well as we could) my depression to when it started, and it seems to have began around the time I was four or five. To look back at myself in a motherly way and see that sadness, that despair, breaks my heart. I wish I could go back and remind that little girl that she was not alone and to insist to her mother that she needs help. I wish I could go back and maybe stop some of this hell that I am mired in.