MONSTER

Some just can't understand. And they never will. They've never been trapped in the infernal abyss. But I've been there. I've languished in the pit, felt the darkness seep through every pore of my flesh, been denied the light. Depression plays tricks with your mind, makes you believe things that are untrue, blurs the lines between fantasy and reality. I have suffered abandonment by those I loved most, those whose job it was to have my back, to support me when I was descending. It must be you, Depression says. You are the problem. You are diseased, defective, a human disaster. Why not just off yourself? So many ways. A tree limb. A jump. The open sea. A knife, a gun, your life, I've won! But a win for Depression is a loss for me. Depression is a monster in my head, and monsters are never our friends. So I take up my sword, tell myself I have some good things in my life, that I am loved, even if by only a few, or just one. But the sword feels too heavy and my hands are sweaty. A thrust here, a swing there and it's on the ground. The monster laughs. Its disgusting saliva is all over me. The stench of its breath is more than I can bear. So I say to myself, give in. The fight is too much. I'm too weak to slay this beast. But at my moment of surrender an angel appears at my side, picks up the sword and removes the head of the monster from its torso. It seems so surreal, things are moving in slow motion. I wonder if I am dreaming or seeing a vision. But then the beast slumps over dead at my feet. It is over, for now. The angel smiles, then disappears before my eyes. The lesson becomes clear to me, like a ray of sun forcing its way through the clouds. On my own I could never claim victory over the beast. But with a little help, I won. We won. And for that I am and will always be forever grateful. For I know that if/when another monster should appear, I am not alone. I suppose I never really was.