Emerging: Mi Cultura..Mi Jornada-My Culture..My Journey

Sunday, May 29, 2005

Latina's And Depression...

End of 1997
It took me a long time to figure out what was wrong with me. All I knew was that I didn't want to get out of bed anymore. I didn't find pleasure in any of the things I used to love to do. Even seeing my kids didn't make me feel the usual warm, loving things I was used to. Every day I would wake wake up and feel like Vilar must have felt when she said, "Face up, the beginning of another day is unbearable. You feel that nothing is ending and nothing is beginning. Maybe if you close your eyes and get away from the light of day you can put an end to that anguish. I tried to move. Starting with my arms, and then my hips, back, and head. Finally, I managed to move my legs and with great effort, I succeeded in turning onto my side." (I. Vilar, 1998)

Little did I know that coming back to myself would be so difficult. My mind had shut down. It's as if a door had closed, and I no longer had any other doors to open. I had become an atrophied body who couldn't do anything for herself. I could not feed or dress myself. Try as I might, I couldn't pull down the black sheet that had come to cover my eyes; the dark shroud that encircled my heart.

The moment of light finally came when I sat in my bedroom with a piece of glass in my hand. I didn't know why I had it, but I knew what it was for. I meant to end the pain that tore at me day and night. The torment of the shadows that existed in what was the closet of my mind. It was time to put to rest all those demons that I couldn't seem to run far away enough from.

Just as I pulled my arm back to run the glass over my wrist, my son ran into my room. He'd had a bad dream, and came looking for my comfort. I began crying uncontrollably. It was the cry of the wounded. The sound reverberates in my mind even today. The sound was God awful; the despair was profound. My son put his arms around me and told that he needed me, and for me to please come back to him. How could a boy that was barely 9 years old know what to say?? I believe God directed him to me that night, for that night, I was the one needing my children.
This Emergence Ocurred at , 6:44 PM

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