I’ve been there. The dark pit of depression that leaves you completely and utterly helpless. Useless. Grieving and insecure. Mostly after a loved one has been taken away from us. It’s a terrible place, that pit. It’s dark and cold and lonely. And it makes the best of us take the worst decisions.
Then some day, you notice, there’s a light. And a pair of hands. Wait. Several pairs of hands, trying to pull you up and out of the pit.
But by now, the pit has become so comfortable. Familiar. Cosy. So we let the light pass and the hands leave. And then everything we do wrong, can be blamed on the pit. And somehow we stop being accountable.
So please. If you find yourself in the pit, look up. There are several hands waiting to pull you up. Please grab hold. We need you to walk with us again.
Disclaimer: I’m not a psychologist and I don’t know anything about anxiety or depression. This piece is just my own thoughts based on my own experiences and observations. I am in no way demeaning another individual’s pain or generalizing how people cope with grief.