The Sense in Being Senseless: My Weapon for Depression

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I am in control of the life I lead, the body I reside in, the mind I put to sleep when the day has burned away its use.  “When the moon wakes up, the sun will go to bed.” I tell my son all-knowing, “and then the opposite is just as true. So life should make sense to you at 2.” 

If only life were so simple. If only I carried control like a remote of direction – I’d click through my guide of televised episodes concluding day’s ends – moral lessons by the channel.

But life is not so simple like the moon and sun appear to tell.  My dear children, I  won’t be able to explain it all and that’s the honesty I promise to always give you.  I promise to break your hearts when necessary, because it is my motherly and decent duty to never bend lies beautifully, so that you will grow up well. 

Life will sometimes hurt and control will slip your grip and mudslides of mistakes can ensue if you allow them to when the rain does not stop pouring.   You are not the makers of weather. Do not fight the storms as if you will turn them dry. Enjoy the sights of light striking fear into your hearts because, while such bolts of flash deem terrifying,  they’re real and will remind you of the many different ways possible to feel.  Be thankful you’re alive and please, do not dwell.  The storm will pass.

I am just having  one of those weeks and the rain is paying some visitation .  I watch the clouds roll in and listen for the growls of angry sky to arrive all while sitting on a swing beneath the blender.  Sunshine dimmed by white skies and in the distance,  black.  I sit beneath it all so that I can see, today I am outside myself.  Today, I am out of my control.  There is no sense today.  And that’s okay.

Queen City Kait

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