Shawna Atteberry

Fog rolled in last night. I loved the ethereal glow of the lights down on the streets. I took pictures. At one point I was hanging out the window to get a photo up Wabash. It was probably a good thing it was around 2:30 a.m., so no one was looking at the crazy woman hanging out of her window on the thirteenth story, taking pictures.

While I was meditating this morning, I had an insight. Light still shines in the fog. It’s dispersed and fuzzy, but it still shines. When I’m in a fog–when I’m depressed–my light still shines too. It may be dispersed and fuzzy, but it’s still shining. It may even appear ethereal and otherworldly as light does in the fog. In many myths fog separates this world from Faery or the Otherworld. May be I’m closer to other worlds and God in my fogs? May be my light will show other these paths, these worlds? It’s an interesting thing to think about.

I always say I’m in a fog when I’m depressed. Yes, fog makes it hard to see and hear. But light in the fog is so beautiful. Moonlight, street lights, or lights from signs–it doesn’t matter. They all take on this beautiful, otherworldly glow in the fog. The fog softens things, blurs borders and boundaries, and makes you see everyday things differently. It opens new possibilities of gateways to other worlds. It can be a pain to navigate in, but where will you wind up if you follow the lights through the fog? I don’t know. But it gives me a different way of looking at my fogs of depression. What if I pay attention to the fuzzy and ethereal lights I do see? What if I follow them? Where will I wind up? What if someone follows my fuzzy light? Where will we end up?

I’m sure you’ve noticed the silence of my blog. I have depression, and a couple of weeks ago it swung into action. I think the trigger was preparing the presentation for the University of Phoenix and the assessment and interview (and how I worried the whole thing to death). The last two weeks have been filled with insomnia, headaches, dizziness, fatigue, worry, and anxiety. I found a great psychatrist here, and in addition to Paxil, which I already take, I am now on a small dose of Clonazepam as well. I’ve been on the Clonazepam for a few days, and I already feel better. I am sleeping (thank goodness), and my anxiety levels are way down. I am no longer worrying about every little thing. Honestly this last week it was hard for me to do just day-to-day things like getting out of bed and eating, much less writing.

It has also helped that the weather is springlike, and I can get outside and walk down to the lake (I’m enjoying it while it lasts: it’s supposed to snow this weekend). It’s absolutely beautiful. I took pictures, but I can’t find the cord to download them onto the computer. I am feeling back to normal with regular times of prayer, meditation, and exercise. I am also amping up the journaling so I can keep track of my moods and patterns. One thing depression teaches you is that you have to take care of yourself.

Writing a series on my experiences in depression is on the list of the subjects I want to write on, so you will probably start seeing posts on depression, how I’ve managed it, and what I’ve learned from it.