JUST A BLIP
Dancing with Bowie
What Dreams May Come
Depression grips me but I fight it. It’s like an unwelcome weighted blanket attached to my body 24/7. Quicksand sucking muck with each step I try to take in any direction toward resolve. It’s grief, it’s hormones out of whack, it’s high pollen count, it’s villainized empathy and weaponized religion, it’s these psych drugs suppressing my creativity and emotions. I can see you, but I can’t interact with you in any real tangible way.
I’ve been zoning out and sleeping. Every task I’m required to complete is a struggle. I’m bothered. It makes it seem like you’re bothering me, but you’re not. I’m just unable. Disabled.
I’m angry and sad and disappointed in humanity. I wish that nature could take over. A rewilding is in order. Most definitely.
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My dreams have been a great escape. I haven’t been partaking in the weed gummies. Dreams come more easily when I’m off that stuff.
I didn’t want to wake up. The living room was in the woods. The view was misty mountain tops. There were several birds’ nests on the coffee table and in the chandelier. Purple hummingbirds and American robins. So many colors there was no need to coordinate with the decor. Petrichor. The air was humid and a tree was growing in the foyer. I placed myself on the couch and took a nap. I dreamt that my partner was trying to wake me up. Something was holding me there against my will. No matter what he attempted to bribe me with, coffee, breakfast out, it didn’t register. I couldn’t rouse myself awake. When I finally extricated myself from the grip of my dream, I felt hungover and defeated.
Last night, I dreamed I was on Planet Six Seven. The aliens put me in a cell with David Bowie. We danced to the song Let’s Dance. I wrote a check for bail and it bounced. I made arrangements to get a message to my partner that I wasn’t coming back to Earth.
I haven’t created much art lately. Everything I do seems forced. I am not okay, but I will be. I am grateful to be alive. The birds continue to sing. The sun and moon still say hello. There is always something to look forward to, even if it’s buried under layers of bad news. Seek it out. Keep hoping. At least that’s what I’m striving to do on a daily basis. Wishing that the despair wanes soon until suddenly it diminishes entirely. Being angry and outraged constantly is not a healthy way to exist. It can motivate tremendous change, but it shouldn’t be how you operate.
Until I became ill, I was filling my time with art and cleaning up the refuse in my neighborhood. I was thanked by one of my neighbors. It inspired me to do more. I adopted three storm drains. Keeping them clear of debris and checking on them before it rained was something I could control and it wasn’t something polarizing to start a fight over. I’ll get back to it again, once I feel well.
In the scheme of all time, this is just a blip. We will not have this shadow over us forever. A demonstration of the best of us has not yet arrived. Or maybe it never will and the aliens will beam us up so we can all have a chance to dance with Bowie in our gilded cages. Either or.
