Peace

For the first time in a while, I felt something I hadn't.
It was something I could only describe as the soft clouds that accent the sky.
Or, the way the multitude of stars guide lost souls back home.
It was the soft grass that, when I laid on it, caressed my entire being; and it was the beautiful flowers that began to color my soul.
It was the soundscapes of tomorrow, and last night's lullabies, and bedtime stories that I just couldn't resist replaying in my imagination because they were just too amazing.
It was the lingering sounds of cathedral bells I heard in a dream long time ago, accompanied by visions of midwinter, and the scripture of stained-glass windows.
It was every little touch; every soothing and gentle stroke of the head, every time invisible arms wrapped close around me, keeping me safe.
It was the calming scent of lavender, and the little plush animal that has been at my bedside since only a few years ago.

It was peace.  And as soon as I realized what presented itself to me, it left my feeble grasp.

The last few weeks have proven to be rough.
There have been days where I have isolated myself out of choice for the best, and days where I have isolated myself because "no one wanted to deal with it, so to go to your room until you do".
There have been days where I could not find the motivation to get out of bed, and days where I would go back to my bed not even three hours after getting out of it.
There were nights that I was so irritable, I snapped at everyone and didn't realize I had done so and sounded so angry.
There were moments I felt such guilt, I wished not to be seen, and moments that I felt such grief, I wished not to be heard.
I found myself crying for no reason, except for unexplained feelings of sadness.
I found myself drowning.  Drowning in thoughts of worthlessness, helplessness, loneliness.
I found myself drowning in the numbing tingles of when I looked down and thought my feet had turned blue... that my entire body was beginning to become painted in the blueish-gray I thought colored my feet.
I found my muscles growing incredibly tense, my hands becoming fidgety and scratching my scalp, my head, my arms, trying to brush off the inevitable panic, and my breathing picking up, up, and away, until I was swept up into the darkness.

But I didn't understand.
In the midst of depression, why did I suddenly feel peace?
Why did I suddenly begin to giggle with a cat walked on my back and then lay at my feet?
Why did I suddenly feel like painting beautiful scenic views (and my art skills suck), slow-dancing in the middle of my bedroom by myself, only illuminated by the nightlight, or singing the blues away?
Why did every thought suddenly become a poetic line in the catacombs of my frazzled mind?

Why did this feeling leave so quickly?
I wonder, but for now, I thank my lucky stars that my eyes lit up for the first time in weeks, and that they can close with the gift of a peace that left me too quickly but was still a wonderful gift to receive.

-LJ
19 June 2016, 5:26am