depressed. seven years of it now.
the holidays. yuck. but when i
take the time to reflect on each
of the last seven stretches from
mid-november to, somewhere
around the middle of the sec
ond week of january, if i made
a cake in chronological order
from the bottom to the top,
as bitter and disgusting as
each layer might be, there
is a vast improvement
as one moves upward
toward the top of the
cake. is such a many-
layered cake eaten from
bottom to top, however?
no, i suppose not. and
that’s the one thing that
i’ve been working with
such ferocity to avoid,
the movement backwards,
as time moves forward. i
mean, that first horrible
christmas, that first inter
minable month of decem
ber, the point is that, sure,
i fell off a cliff, whether i
had anything much to do
with that or not (and i do
lay blame most assuredly
and intently on not me,
it’s all part of the therapy,
and of the being honest,
and of the not being so
down about how things
are post cliff-dive as
compared to pre-, but
not only does time tell
me i’ve been right, much
as my head was a bunch
of mush for the first few
years, steadily perhaps
improving, like those
layers, but wasn’t i
lamenting the meta
phor, as in who eats
a cake with 7 layers
from the bottom up?
aren’t the layers
generally supposed
to go together? eaten
in tandem. that’s no
good either. forget
my trying to parse it
all into a neat meta
phor, what’s clear is
that my focus has re
gained sharpness, and
that each year has been
better than the previous
six, or if we’re talking
holidays, i guess it’d
be better to say the
previous seven, and
that’s literal, tangible,
and so easy to assert
with confidence. all
i have to do is send
myself back for a
brief moment (the
briefer the better),
and, whew, wow,
here i am. i’ll
never be that
person i was
before. and
isn’t that
just fine?
becoming
and then
recovering
from being a
zombie, an
automaton
with the man’s
thumb smushing
me down into the
whatever ground
or floor there is
at the moment,
if there was any
at all, seems at
times there wasn’t,
and here i am at try
ing to make a meta
phorical picture again,
so let’s end that by say
ing, by me saying that
despite the hell I went
through, a hell which
made me literally sick,
unable to function like
i used to, every year
all that is bad about
it keeps becoming
less, and while, yes,
i will never be the
man i was before,
i can tell you that
this is a fortunate
thing, and that i am
a much better person
than i have ever been
for going through such
an extended nightmare.
so, even laying blame
where it belongs without
dwelling on it so becomes
a remnant as i emerge with
so much experience and
enlightenment and patience
and, hey, i’m almost there,
too. it’s a new goal for a
new me, and i’m almost
there. and it makes me
giddy sometimes, even
as things trudge along.
and i’m better for it.
