A sad little realisation I plucked from the rift on one of my trips down there, that I Mustn’t Forget:
My depression is the only thing that is MINE.
I know it is mine, because nobody would ever want this for their own. Thus, it is safe, protected and completely not-for-the-taking. Mine!
That one was a bit of a shocker. But it has the delicate crystal ring of truth to it, so no hiding it under the carpet or in the back of the couch or under a pile of magazines somewhere.
I recognise it for what it is: The thought of a child who has had everything precious taken away (again, in the child’s perception). When it is something that treasured, all the shiny things in the world can’t compare to that one thing that is lost. It doesn’t matter what is left; all that matters is what is gone.
Many months ago I started working on a project (and then promptly forgot about it) called “78 Pieces of Anger”, aligning my specific points of rage with the tarot. I used The Tower to represent the moment in my life when I lost my most precious thing: when I was separated from my grandparents at age 5 (unavoidable circumstances). Looking for a suitable Tower card for this entry led to the Mona Lisa deck. ‘Nuff said?
I’ve sat with my Depression and my Fear; I invited them to table to better understand their point of view (before this realisation). My Depression took the form of a little girl. A very angry little girl, who refused to speak. My fear was a big, fuzzy “monster” and I laughed my metaphysical balls off when I saw the Golden tarot of Klimt Devil – that’s him!! It’s a child’s version of “scary”, more Domokun than anything else; a teddy bear-like mascot/amulet. And also, a costume to hide in…
My depression is the only thing that is MINE, and that is why it won’t stay down. My desire to hold onto what is MINE is stronger than any pharmaceuticals or behavioural therapies or cognitive changes you can throw at it. I can’t give it up because I don’t want to.
That little girl will fight to the death for what is hers.