I know what depression feels like for me.
It’s a very steep cliff that I jumped off of at a rarely random time. And I have no idea that I’m plunging at the speed of gravity times my emotional weight until I feel it and look down. A heavy soul falls fast.
When I hit the bottom and spread over the unforgiving surface, I lay there depending on how much I had to feel. Recognition of the end of this terminal descent isn’t immediate. I think that’s why I remain prone for a while.
Nothing picks me off the ground except time. Thankfully, I always get up.
Even contemplating when time couldn’t heal a wound, I’m relieved to know myself well enough to be too ignorant to recognize it. I’d just plow forward at the speed of my mass without looking down.
