Personal Narratives Writer

How Do I Break Past the Invisible Walls?

Today’s Morning Thoughts…

What do you do when morning breaks? When the thought of living turns you into solid lead? What do you do? My body is an anchor, thrown over the side of some fishing boat, way out in the sea. And I wake to: descending, descending, descending—down to the black-cold layers of thick seawater at the bottom of the world, where no one ever goes.

And I can’t get on with the business of living. Because I am lead. I am a rusty old anchor at the bottom of the sea. I am stopped before I could get started. I am out of reach, beyond helping, as soon as my eyelids flutter open to a new morning.

Another day I’m certain I won’t live.

Another day I’ll just live through.

What was that all about?

So much of my depression (and subsequent anxiety) leaves me mentally and physically paralyzed. Not only am I fighting an invisible enemy, but I’m also languishing over the fact that I am in too deep with this mental battle to create.

Are you a creative person who struggles with depression and/or anxiety? Do you manage to keep creating through those struggles? Tell me how! Let’s start a dialogue.

3 comments on “How Do I Break Past the Invisible Walls?

  1. I do not suffer from depression, and very little anxiety. I am sorry that you do. The young lady said to the young man to whom she was about to (finally) surrender her honor, “But I’ll hate myself in the morning.” He replied, “Then let’s sleep till noon.”
    In retirement, I follow the same path. I observe a schedule that many find strange and/or confusing. I blog all night, go to bed at 5 AM and rise about 1 PM. There’s nothing like leaving the bedroom to find cats sprawled in pools of sunlight, to start the day happily. 😀 😎

    Like

    • Thanks for your kindness. Where is that quote from?

      Your retirement plan sounds amazing! I may steal some of these ideas when I do. 🙂

      Like

      • I have a huge collection of jokes, suitable for every occasion. At 76, that’s a pretty old one – probably from the ’40s or ’50s. Blame someone like Groucho Marx, or Henny Youngman. 😀

        Like

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