I am hopeful.
It's been over a year since I went for professional help and started my current anti-depressants.
It's been over a year since the worst night of my last relationship but a shy eight months since that relationship ended. When you've got clinical depression issues, and know it, it can be hard to see exterior issues. You assume it is all you. A relationship over a distance complicates this.
Winter is coming. The fog of introspection slowly shrouds me. It is not unwelcome but I know what comes next: the unseen weak spots in my emotional flooring...those moments where one step is supported as usual and the next is met with a cracking sound. Free fall.
So, like last year, my dose will be increased as the daylight wanes. Will it chase the false shadows and sticky cobwebs but leave the real moments of needed quiet, inward reflection, pain and tears alone?
And yet, I still feel hope.
The fog rolls in. I increasingly experience what I label falling through time. A familiar location/voice/date/event triggers something and suddenly my mind squints. I see the past times I've spent here, or with you, or doing this. Layer after layer they unfurl themselves. The memories overlap. Patterns emerge. It forms a palimpsest. I see where the actions. I feel what is written in the deepest ink. The emotions from before revisit my body. Everything flickers...
... then snaps back into place. I am back to the now, feeling more present than ever.
The sense of hope doesn't visit me despite these moments, it is inspired by them. Sure, I'm still highly-flawed, single, unsure of so much, with a future that is hazy at best...but I'm doing better than the lows of my past. I think I've learned a few things and am ready...for whatever happens next.