Slope

I almost told Sibling. We've been together nearly constantly the past two days and I've been picking her up and dropping her off to avoid paying twice the parking fees. As we drove through a quiet evening back toward home as the clock ticked past 9 on its way to 9:15, the pain was so immense and the suffering so acute that I nearly begged her to help me.

"Molly," I said, for that's her name. Then I stopped, swallowed against the rising sickness and closed my mouth. "Never mind," I said when I was able to force words past my lips. "I lost my train of thought."

It feels odd - this sense of secrecy in a time when I could dearly use some support. But Industry, for all the opportunity offered and challenges presented, is not the place to admit weakness. In positions of power, I've think saying that my brain doesn't work quite right may not be the best move. Given our affectionately competitive relationship and overall gossipy environment, I decided the benefit wasn't worth the cost when it came to Sibling.

It was after she thanked me and grabbed her bag from the backseat that I drove toward home and released the words choking me.

"God," I said, knowing He was there but unable to access peace or comfort or joy, "I'm so sad." And though I made it home without crying, greeting Chienne and Sprout before moving upstairs to remove my pretty dress and tug on pajamas, I rested on the bed for mere seconds before tears started to fall.

It's very odd, I decided as I continued to cry while moving downstairs to fetch my anti-depressant. When I meet people with loved ones who live with mood disorders (and there are a lot of us. Did you know depression is projected to be the world's leading cause of disability by 2020? True story.), I try to explain what it's like. How it feels when I'm sick. What it takes to get better. How absolutely frustrating it is to not do anything for days and to feel so miserably guilty about it. How the pain is so huge that it surrounds me, smothering any efforts to escape and wanting only for time to pass. For the misery to ease, if only for a few moments so I can catch my breath.

The saving grace during each of these episodes is that I know I'll get better. There are triggers that still catch me - minuscule problems that spiral outward until the twinge of discomfort morphs into an encompassing cloud of depression. I don't know the trick to prevent the fall into a deeper state of despair. Even when I identify it early. Despite the fact that I continue to get up and go to work, operating at whatever levels of productivity I can achieve. When I force myself to interact with people - taking and making phone calls, attending meetings, engaging in conversations I can't avoid even when it's excruciating. Even in moments where the misery does ease - where I laugh or relax or lose myself in work. I still end up slipping ever downward until I reach bottom.

All I can tell you now is that the fall is awful. Feeling bad and realizing it's getting worse. Bracing for impact, dreading it even as I hope it comes soon so the trend can reverse. Maybe tomorrow. Please, God, tomorrow.