I haven’t been writing much for the last couple months. I have been drawing more than usual. I think Art is a way I can emote while keeping my actual feelings to myself. Unlike writing, visual art leans to the obscure and symbolic, rather that’s the clear and precise. A picture is worth a thousand words, but they are up to the interpretation of the viewer.
My writing comes from my story telling ability. To communicate a story you must be as clear as possible so the reader can understand what you are saying experiencing or feeling. Honestly, I have not been eager to share what I have been feeling for the last few months. Every time I would start to hide my emotions in the tale of a personal experience for laughs, it would fall short.
Since Valentines Day last year I have lost seven people who were special friends. Any one of them would have been shock enough to throw off my thinking, but when one experiences that loss more than half a dozen times 12 months, it is overwhelming. That fact is exponentially true regarding this blog for each one of those friends was an itinerant reader of this blog.
Recently I posted one of my newer drawings on Facebook. My stability was thin over the weekend. It took an almost insignificant event to trigger a major emotional fall. The picture was not a cry for an intervention but was a little more revealing than I ever wanted to be on Facebook.
I was touched by the many comments and messages of support I got from my friends still here. In clearer moments of my life I might be able to understand that the number of friends still here, is greater than the ones who have gone. Depression, however, does not look at the long odds it looks at the short term loss. I understand intellectually that is my struggle, to rise above the short term downward spiral of depression. It used to be easier.
This week marks the one year anniversary of the first of our friends to pass. She is significant because Dr. Joyce Ducas was not only a beloved sister-in-law, she was also one of the smartest psychologists I have ever known. One of her specialties was multiple personality disorder. As a ventriloquist making a living musing about that disorder we had some “delicious” conversations. She would have been the first person I would turn to in a time like this. She knew me and what made my depression tick on a level of love that is impossible to find in real therapy. She was the first to leave so every other loss became heavier because her insight was not there.
This anniversary blind sided me. However, understanding the reason it might be a dark time for me does not define the cure. As much as I try to imagine what Joyce might say to me at this moment, I can’t really. For a depressive that very process becomes a down spiral.
So here is the point. No intervention is necessary. Thank you to all who have reached out, that very act is healing to me. Fortunately I am working the next few nights in a theater variety show on the Gulf Coast of Alabama. Dr. Greasepaint does come to the rescue and lighten my mood when I am on stage. Manipulating strangers into my own idea of reality is what I do best. I am grateful for this gig at this particular moment.
So, thank you to all who reached out in thought, message, emoji and love.
As you were,
Jay