post publication depression

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Post Publication Depression


I was depressed.

Have you ever been so deeply submerged that you can’t grasp the extent of the depth? I think that’s how it had been for me this last month and a half. Deep and oblivious.

At first, I thought it was seasonal. This is the time of year when weather pulls you down. This time of year has taken me down in the past (I suspect I belong in a warmer climate.)

In the morning I reluctantly open my eyes to notice the minimal winter light outside the window. I should get up. Instead, I close my eyes and make a list. Telling myself things like: It’s a new day, you can do anything you want, and you love your family and home. Get up and take charge of everything. Next, I remember all post publication work needed done. Not too long ago I would leap at the chance to work and talk about the project, now I just pull the covers closer and pass out until lunch time.

Lately I have begun to come out the depression I didn’t know I was in. Today I awoke with a need to work and write and without the need to make a list. I just got up and got on with it. What a relief. Weeks had passed since I felt any desire for life, and more than a few times I worried I may never again. An idea that condensed the sadness.

I’m not saying I was a useless mess of sadness I still laughed and functioned, loved and worried, participated and got dressed (most days anyway) but I was doing this all under a weight.

I have felt, this weight before. It came to me after childbirth. At the time I was oblivious to the depression. The midwife informed me as I was coming out of it. I remember her saying that the group of Midwives who had been helping me had discussed my depression. They had all been instructed to keep and eye on me. I was surprised. She called it postpartum depression which I had heard of but did not imagine I was experiencing it. My husband at the time also noticed I was different and mentioned he was worried I might never come out of it. I had no idea I was depressed.

Today I am thinking back to those post childbirth feelings of just going through the motions and am comparing them with the feelings of the last month or so.

I am not saying publication and childbirth are the same. I am acutely aware of the importance and difficulty of bringing a human life into the world, but I will say the story I breathed life into, however insignificant, was and is a piece of my soul.

So once again I am realizing in retrospect, the melancholy was a crash from an expectation high.

I like to think I live without expectation. I often tell my loved ones that I love them without expectation…I told the story(The Red Ribbon Woods) the whole time I was writing it, and the publisher the same thing. High and mighty on my own enlightenment. Bahahaha

I would like to say I am wiser, that in the future I will not fall victim to this kind of gloom. When the sun starts to fall and a piece of my soul if given away, I will see it coming and know enough to look to the stars and be thankful I have a soul to give. Ah, but I am only human. Lucky for me the gloom is short, creation is long, and tomorrow I will expect life to give me something wonderful to write about.

Submitted: February 20, 2021

© Copyright 2021 p.a.m. All rights reserved.

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