Monday, April 12, 2010

My depression is the cave

I connected with the cave yesterday. Like touching a pool of water it sent ripples across my soul. I was in touch with the deepest, darkest most painful part of me that helped me survive.

Then it dawned on me...the cave is my depression. This is what my depression looks like. A far cry from this vacant, dead thing in my mind. It is ALIVE. It churns and swirls like a fire in my belly. This is what it looks like under the black cap. It breathes with a life all it's own. It believes and knows the pain within, for it is that pain. Screaming with life. Hanging on with all it's might. Protecting me at any cost to survive. Never giving up. Never giving in. Never letting go. Realizing that the pain that I endured I must inflict upon myself in order to survive. How much did I really endure? The amazing resilience to live. To find a way. To never let them win. To really, truly suffer and still bounce back to life, time and time again. It is truly mind boggling. What the heart, mind and body will do to live. What ever it takes. A primal instinct instilled for survival and the right to live.

My paintings are all pulled out of this pool of energy. Giving me that needed connection of life and the reality within. The vibrant colors, energy, and the mixing and blending of each, gives the meaning to the purpose. When I paint I touch the potential that exist and the vigor to create it. Suddenly it all makes sense.

The energy I united with last night lasted until early this evening. I was baffled at first as I felt the old familiar weights pulling me down. It was then I realized the black cap was back on the cave and the black void of depression and sadness began to cover me like a fog. Again, I was forced with the knowledge that it takes time to heal and I still had a long way to go. With each piece of healing, I begin to think I may be done, until I find it isn't over. I trust myself and my faith to know the black cap will open again and again, when it is ready. I'm sure I wouldn't be able to handle a lifetime of trauma all at once, as I didn't happen to me all at once. And so I grieve. The little bit of energy I did experience was overwhelming enough as I connected with myself. Baby steps. It all comes down to baby steps.

3 comments:

Mart the Fart said...

Someone told me that I must not wallow in my pain and pity but instead I should acknowledge them, my thoughts and my sorrow, say hello to them, put them in a drawer and say goodnight to them. Easier said than done of course!


I feel your cave is actually a form of secret chest where you keep your thoughts and despair and that every now and then, perhaps unwillingly, you bring them out to measure how far you've come or, that they're still there. Whereas you should be filling the cave and not entering or taking them out. Your paintings and this very blog are your release and I believe this is where your inspiration, future, success, escape, way forward and passion comes from and must be your goal.You have amazing abilities and I envy your writing and the vibrance that comes from your words. Pictures, your blog will shine even more with some of your pictures or photographs.


I love it, hugs. Mart.

midnight rainbow said...

Thanks Mart for your comments and suggestions. I will have to ponder a little further your thoughts about the cave. I agree in part, most of it is buried feelings and expressing them positively helps release them. Just knowing they exist is half the battle.

Thank you for suggesting the pictures. I got paranoid at one point that I was copying others ideas, but I really like using them when I have something that works. Sometimes though I like to go without.

Kat Weaver said...

Having fought a few nasty battles with depression myself, I found your description of the cave very familiar.

Your writing is so alive and vibrant...I wish I could see your paintings! From what I have read here, you seem to have a beautiful mind. Truly beautiful.