Blank Slate,Blank State

        Blank Slate, Blank State

  When describing to friends, family, colleagues, and lovers over the years the chronic condition of depression the metaphor always simple, especially for those who had never experienced the darkness, the blankness. 

  Take a pencil on a piece of paper and write all of the unique characteristics, qualities, loving, emotional and passionate traits of yourself on the page and then take the pink little tip of that pencil and start erasing each one furiously leaving the eraser slivers of pink to cover the page.  Take a look at noticeably blank paper yet with the hints of the person not totally erased by the cheap eraser of that number 2 pencil. 

  That is the recurring theme of depression always under the surface only to spring out when least expected or exactly when expected.

  Blank stares would face me from those people who had never understood this enigma of an illness with their judgments quieted due to my vulnerable honesty or their lingering fear of saying I was just crazy or some would honestly state I don't understand it. 

  And the last group, that honesty was theirs and beautiful because those who have depression free lives should not understand this hell and I would not wish it on them.  I half smile to this group and silently pray that their positive ignorance will follow them through their lives.  For all ignorance is not wrong, it is at times perfect and I envy their ignorance on this illness. 

  Often I wistfully dream that my genetically overloaded family background had skipped a generation for my older sibling and myself like the hair loss gene saves others from hairplugs, propecia, and toupees. 

  My first harrowing experience was eleven years ago where everyday was crying and hopelessness.  As a depressed psychology major the irony almost comical as we studied exactly what I was experiencing. 

  My depression has evolved and mutated in its grasp of me as I have grown older..  No two episodes quite the same.  Psychotherapy, medication, and counseling are a part of my life and always will be but that is ok because slowly I will reemerge again with the brightness of hope, optimism, and dedicated purpose.

  Though right now I do not believe that and I write it to feign my true feelings right now that fear this consuming episode might never end.  My loving parents say it will so does my emotional support system but I am yet to see the light in what is supposed to be my life.

  I am hollow right now, and often stare with vacant, vacated eyes; a blank slate in a blank state.