Depression is something I don’t understand. I gravitate towards answers that are conclusive with clear prognosis. Depression does not accommodate either.
Depression does not lend itself to a comfortable cause-effect diagnosis. I want those whom I love to be happy. I want to “fix” it for them. Their sadness seems like my failure, even though I know it is not.
Depression relegates solvers into supports verging on spectators.
I have heard the explanation of causes – chemical, biological, neurological, environmental and the combination there of. I don’t dispute their veracity while acknowledging their bothersome uncertainty.
I have often wondered if there is more intertwined in the uncertain explanations than the physical.
We are told that there will be a time when the experience of the depressed will not be limited in numbers. Consider a world where the reality of the depressed is not unique, not a clinical diagnosis, but the universal experience of the whole. Where the joy has gone and darkness reigns. Where the merry of heart have resigned and numbness ascends.
Maybe, depression is more than a taste for an unfortunate few but a universal sign beyond that particular issue; a foretaste to when merriment yields to blindfolds being removed. Reality being revealed to a world, which has chosen it’s own rule. A reminder of the warnings of old, to the prophesies, where we are told, that merriment in what we hold will be banished beyond any gravitational fold.
Maybe, these thoughts are more imagination than inspiration, but I long for the depressed to be made whole now. Even if depression isn’t a sign, I am motivated even more to pray for the lost to be found, so that they never know the absence of joy, follow into the on-coming darkness.
A DEVOTED LIFE 