Me and the Dark D.

ME AND THE DARK D 

3.25

Dear Sienna, 

Have you ever felt like you’ve lost yourself before? 

I found one of your old journal entries when I packed up your apartment so I know that you have…I’m truly sorry if you’ve ever felt this type of suffering and didn’t feel like you could tell me (your bigger sister) about it. But maybe that’s why you couldn’t tell us about a lot of things…sometimes I wonder if I pushed you away from me or were you distancing yourself from us on purpose? 

Is this thought another regret of mine? 

Maybe. 

Honestly, I haven’t quite decided yet if I believe in the idea of regret at all, but I think I’m starting to understand why such a term was created. 

…

It’s been awhile since I’ve written to you.

Let me just say: 

Depression is real. 

I’ve spent all my free time since coming back to Vegas, curled up in my dark bedroom, killing the precious hours of my life playing Royal Match and binge watching movies on Netflix, only emerging from my musty cave to get food, water, and to go to work. I guess this is what life looks like, at least, it is for now…now that you’re gone. 

(But don’t worry though, I’m still showering!  If not, the onions would be strong with this one, and no one likes a stinky girl.) 

…

My coworker recently: “So how have you been?”

Me: “Fine, I guess.”

Coworker: “Just fine?”

Me: “Yeah, why what have you heard?”

Coworker: “Nothing bad,” she paused before saying, “just that you’re quiet now.”

…

And she’s right. 

I’ve been quiet. 

Almost too quiet…

But I feel shy now. 

I feel shy around my coworkers, I’m shy around our family, my friends, and even Ace. Most importantly, I fear I’ve become shy around myself these last couple of weeks. Months? God, how long has it been? And let me just say, once you become shy around yourself, it's a hard mental journey back to reality, because really, it’s a journey back to yourself and sometimes, finding yourself (again) is the hardest thing for people to do. 

That same fear is still coursing through the fibers of my psyche, I just pray that the people I love the most won’t abandon me by the time I get back to myself because I have no idea what this scared version of me is capable of destroying and at this point, I’m glad I can’t see the future to know.  

You wouldn’t be shocked to hear that I’ve been here before.

 In fact, this is not my first rodeo with depression. 

No. 

Me and the dark D go way, way, back; my metaphorical stamp card here must be lit. And what’s my prize in the end? (Because there better be a f*cking prize) …I suppose admin is still working that part out but let me just say I hope that at the end of all this, what's waiting for me at the end of this dark and tormenting tunnel is true inner peace. One can only hope. 

One of the things I’ve seemed to learn from being in this place before is that depression isn’t so in your face. It’s not loud and obvious and it doesn’t just happen over night and also, it's not the same for everyone. For me, it's more like the dense fog that sneakily rolls in like the early morning marine lair and it only dissipates if (and when) I allow it to. What I’ve noticed about this pattern of mine is that this slow progression of darkness that quietly strolls over the course of my life and blankly plagues my days with this unending emptiness completely takes over, until one day I wake up and realize that I’m at the bottom of myself: lost. 

 And that’s where I am right now and this is how I feel: completely and utterly lost. 

Lost and shy. 

What a great combination. 

So, if I can barely recognize myself now, then where the fook am I? 

Like am I too far gone or is this just another moment in time I get to add a shining star to my depression stamp card once I truly hit rock bottom? (and like, am I already there?) The freefall has finally stopped and with it: the energy to move on from this place. Having to take the long way back up to my truest self, I am not drowning and I am no longer in freefall. Down here,  I fear I have become nothing. It's like I'm in this deep black hole inside of myself, (the hole I realize now is from the space that you used to fill) and just like how you are now, it is filled with nothingness and also, it’s fucking dark down here. 

The sound of my squeaky -shy- voice mocks me as it echoes back my silent attempts to get back to the surface: back to myself. Is anyone out there listening or are we all too consumed by our own grief to notice that I may need a smidgen of attention.

How long will I be down here for Sienna? 

…

I guess I’ll let you know when I get back. 

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Love, 

Sissy