Five years ago I found myself facing the worst depression of my life. I felt utterly alone and heartbroken. I felt misunderstood and taken for granted. I had faith in nothing.
What is it with creative people and depression? You hear about it all the time. The most creative contibuters of music, poetry and art are often the most tortured by inner demons. To add to my creativity I'm also a lefty which is said to mean I have above average intelligence. Often people with above average intelligence suffer from severe bouts of depression. Why IS that? Can only the dim-witted be truly happy? Perhaps. Ignorance is bliss.
Anyway, five years ago I found myself in my kitchen with tears of doubt and frustration streaming down my face. The existential dilemma loomed over me like a storm. All the saddness and disappointment in the world at large and in my own personal world crashed in on me like a violent tsunami.
As I cried I emptied my dishwasher. As I cried I emptied my dishwasher and I prayed. I prayed that I might not feel so alone. I prayed that my broken heart would mend. I prayed that the pain would stop. I prayed for the darkness to vanish. I prayed for the strength to smile for my children. Smiling was an effort.
I prayed so fervently I did not notice my eighteen-month old son at my feet. The tears in my eyes prevented me from seeing the sharp knife he had extracted from the open dishwasher. The blackness of my heart blocked him from my view as he pointed the knife directly at his eye and toddled away.
I was jolted from my prayer by the sudden blare of the fire alarm. I spun around to find not a fire or even smoke. Instead I saw my baby running with an enormous knife. He giggled and thought it was a game as I deflty flew over my couch and dove toward him. I snatched the knife from his hand immediatly before he lost his balance and fell on his face.
The fire alarm stopped.
The fire alarm had never gone off before and it never went off again while we lived in that house. What happened? Why would I be shaken from my sorrow in time to prevent my son's untimely death?
I suppose some might say it was a coincidence.
I happen to believe it was a miracle. I happen to believe in my darkest hour I was shown I am not alone. I often have to remind myself of that fact.
I don't care what religion you subscribe to. I don't care if you think religion as a whole is crap. You're not alone on this Earth.
We are each loved and watched over by a Supreme Being. I call Him my Heavenly Father. Other cultures have other names for Him.
Love is the most powerful force in the Universe.
In his Divine Comedy, Dante came face to face with God. He wrote God was l'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle...
"The love that moves the sun and the other stars"...
God is LOVE.
God moves the Sun and the other stars and He moves me. When I feel the most alone, misunderstood and unloved I turn to Him. No one loves me more. I can feel it. No one understands my heart as He does. I can feel it. I am never alone.
