Tuesday, January 12, 2016

The Dali Days...

The depression fog has lifted. The medical fears have not. I am not exactly sure why they are plaguing me right now but I am sure if I distract myself enough, I will actually be able to just live in the moment. Something that is almost impossible to do when you live with OCD on the brain. You have to learn to distract to be present. It's an oxymoron but such is my life. The thing is,  I keep feeling like something big and wonderful is about to happen. Not exactly sure what, but I weirdly feel like I am waiting on it. Maybe my piece will get published or the water bill will be super cheap this month. I dunno. What I do know is that I am beyond grateful for a couple of things that have happened so far this year. They are personal and don't actually have to do with me, so I am not going to go into detail about them, but I am so very thankful.

I guess this post is more about hope than anything else. Sometimes it is really hard to imagine good things coming your way when you are wrestling with mental demons. Sometimes the world seems to be a great mass of dark matter. A black hole that burrows deep beneath your veins. A rot that seeps into your cerebral cortex and decays any happy thoughts that may have nestled there thinking it was a safe place to nap. It devours the light. It snuffs out any optimism. It leaves you feeling devoid of anything positive. Sometimes we live in the secret void between everything else and everyone else. It is a very lonely place to live. It is a very difficult place to dwell, even if you dwell there for only a few seconds. It takes it's toll. It feels like holding your breath while under water. Everything is muted. The light is dull. Words and conversations are merely garbled sounds.  Nothing is in it's place and everything seems like a snarled disconnected mask. This world could make no more sense or be any less confusing if Salvador Dali painted it while drunk riding on a donkey. It is a room with no corners and a sentence with no words. Everything that should be clear and understandable is muddled.

But eventually, the dark mass lifts and the sun comes out again. It warms the frostbit fingers of hope. It thaws the frozen ice sculpture you feel you have become. Allowing you to reach out and breathe again. To renounce the secret void you have become accustomed to living in. To see yourself as how you really are, magnificent. To feel like a living breathing human being again. Hope is a powerful thing....

So, thank you all for your well wishes and supportive comments during my "Dali" days. It meant a great deal to me to see such support and positive comments. It helped push me to fight back against my depression and anxiety and to never ever give on hope. I really do appreciate that. Here is to hoping everyone's week is going well and is full of hope.

Neurotic Nelly


  1. Your first paragraph resonates with more people than you can imagine. Hope you feel better. :)