I won’t sugar coat it. I’ve been severely depressed and incredibly anxious.
That’s not hyperbole; I have major depressive disorder and generalized anxiety disorder, and the trauma of living through a period of social upheaval, political unrest, and a global pandemic where people have been dying at an alarming rate has begun to take it’s toll on my psyche.
Most days I struggle to get out of bed. I’ve been incredibly blessed to be able to work from home, which allows me to burrow into a cocoon of blankets while I type away on my laptop, trying not to let the stress crying ruin my keyboard by saturating it in tears. On days when I don’t have to work, I sleep for hours on end. Twelve, fourteen, even sixteen hours of sleep never feels like I’m rested enough. The ache of mental and emotional exhaustion is so deep, I don’t imagine any amount of sleep will bring me any relief.
I don’t only sleep because of exhaustion. I sleep because it is my only escape from reality. For the hours I am not awake, I can finally be free of the constant state of swirling anxiety that plagues my conscious hours.
I sleep because I need a way out.
Having read this far in, I suppose you’re wondering when the “beautiful” part of this narrative will arrive. It’ll be coming right up.
Today, at the time I am writing this, was a rare day. I was up at 7 AM and actually went outside. Most days, I sleep well past noon, but today I was able to see the sunrise.
I saw the sun paint the sky in dazzling colors, and felt the chill of the crisp morning air.
The world felt quiet.
As it’s January and it’s winter in this hemisphere, frost and ice blanketed every outdoor surface. I saw intricate, indescribable patterns of fragile crystals neatly splayed over the glass and metal of my mom’s car. Truly, it was breathtaking.
So I did what any twenty-first century person would do; I took out my phone to take pictures.
Here is the beauty. Here is life.
Please enjoy the photos below.