the saddest blog in the world

One of the windows in my car was refusing to go up so I took it onto the shop today. I got it in a half hour after the shop opened and it was already unbelievably busy. When I gave the mechanic the key I told him I was planning on waiting to hear from them at a near by coffee shop; that it was fine if my car couldn’t be seen today, but to please let me know as soon as possible so I could pick it up and reschedule. I spent three hours at a coffee shop, and then went to a restaurant for lunch. After lunch I spent an hour and a half at another coffee shop when my sister called and told me she was down the street. At three thirty I – hot, tired and highly caffeinated – began to get very pessimistic about the prospect of my car being repaired today. I called the shop several times, each attempt met with a busy signal. Feeling defeated I accepted a ride home from my sister. At four thirty, a half hour before the shop was to close, I was able to contact the garage. I was informed that my car had been inspected and that the repair part needed to be ordered. I’d fealty sick since returning home, and after this news my swimming stomach dropped. My husband got home a couple hours later and we went to pick up my car. I drove home in my own private inferno, contemplating weather it was worth three hundred dollars to have a window that went up and down. (My final answer, after the air conditioning – though perfectly functional – did little to un-stuff the car, was yes.) Once home I experienced a sensation that hasn't lived inside me for some time. I fealty depressed. It wasn’t serious, just a quick sharp stab that had me bursting in to tears a couple of times, but while I stuck in the muck of it I felt like I would never escape. I fealty, worse than insignificant, like I was a selfish parasite unworthy of the energy I was sucking from the world. I tried to breath, but my diaphragm denied me and allowed my lungs only the slightest sip of oxygen, just enough to keep me alive. I tried to remind my self that things weren’t dire, but I could only frame positive thinking in terms of my negative thoughts. Instead of creating an optimistic attitude, I could only see my self having a horrible life, or trying to hide from my horrible life. After a couple of hours I could feel the antiendorphins that had flooded my system begin to subside. Once again I was able to fill my lungs. Now, though smiling is a real effort and I am by no means full of joy, I am not without hope. Today was not the first time the devil of despair has tempted me, and while I was lucky enough to slip thru it’s clutches today, I will take from the experience my own lessons into the future. I noticed that I was enshrouded in this malaise from 18 to 22, and I now have a new facet to of gratitude for the grace that has been granted to me since. I see with new eyes all people for whom depression is a cronich condition. While I can be fairly sure that the physical and mental stress I was under today contributed to the temporary spell I suffered, I have no idea how it was lifted. I feel deeply for people who are walking thru their lives, with an idea about what triggered their personal turmoil, but no clue as to how to escape. I don’t want to forget the time I spent in that place today. I can see that hope isn’t always easy to choose; since I have the choice I want to do a little hoping for the people who can’t do it for them selves right now.