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Streetlights

How I view my depression, and why I keep going

By Mil HodgsonPublished 3 years ago 3 min read
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Streetlights
Photo by Matthew Henry on Unsplash

Throughout my life, I've seen people use several metaphors for depression. For example, Matthew Johnstone (author of I Had A Black Dog) describes his depression as a black dog that visits without warning or reason. Others have likened it to drowning, and describe how difficult it is to keep yourself afloat. I can relate to both of these descriptions wholly. I've been dealing with depression since my teenage years, and it's fluctuated in intensity over my lifetime. I've come to realise that my experience is not best described as a dog, or me thrashing against waves.

For me, I see my depression as a dark road, dotted with streetlights.

The pools of light on the tarmac are the good days. Stepping into each one is like taking a deep breath of fresh air, like feeling the sun shine onto your face after a storm. When I reach one of these streetlights, everything looks and feels brighter, clearer, and more manageable. It can feel like a burst of energy, of life, and of hope. They almost act like checkpoints - small reminders that I've endured the toughest mental battles, these wars against my own mind, and come out victorious.

The stretches of road inbetween each light, however, are the bad days. On these days, it's so easy to feel lost and directionless. It's mentally draining to force yourself down that path when no flame nor flashlight can expel the darkness. It's so tempting to give up when you can't see the road in front of you, when you don't know where the next light is. Sometimes I wonder if there will even be another one.

This is not to say that these good days, these streetlights, keep me safe from the darkness. Sometimes the light is dim and flickering, or it goes out without warning. So often I question why I keep going, and what good it does me. So often there is nobody to walk this road with me, or to make the darkness more bearable to traverse. So often I am tired, both physically and mentally.

So many times, I ask myself the same question - why do I continue walking?

The thing is, there doesn't need to be some large or significant reason for persevering. Maybe you keep walking so you can give your pet a good life. Maybe you keep walking for your partner, or your parents, or your siblings. Maybe there isn't a reason at all. Everyone's road and motivations will be different.

Some roads will be better lit, or have less potholes, and some people's reasons will be stronger than others. I could say that walking a rougher road has made me stronger, but truthfully, it hasn't. There's a line from one of my favourite films (Pom Poko) that I kept thinking of while I wrote this article:

'I'm constantly impressed by the humans. It takes a lot of stamina to live the way they do'.

Although I'm not a tanuki (I promise), I truly relate to this. It does take a lot of stamina and mental strength just to live each day. Not everyone has the energy or the willpower to get out of bed each day, let alone basic activities (such as showering or getting out of the house).

So, if I have such a lack of energy, then I suppose it begs one simple question: why do I keep going?

I keep going because I want to find that next streetlight, no matter how bright or dim it is. I could have yards to walk, or I could have miles. The road ahead could be smooth and straight, or it could be bumpy and winding. When I wake up each morning, I have no idea whether I'll be stepping into light or darkness. I have no way of knowing what lies before me.

And still I rise from the pavement. And still I walk.

depression
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About the Creator

Mil Hodgson

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