"Midway on our life's journey, I found myself
In dark woods, the right road lost. To tell
About these woods is hard--so tangled and rough
And savage that thinking of it now, I feel
the old fear stirring; death is hardly more
bitter.
And yet, to treat the good I found there as well
I'll tell what I saw..."
Thus begins your descent. Fear not: you aren't the first to make this journey. Help is available--but only if you tell what you saw. Find someone to whom you can relate your tale. The effects are profoundly cathartic.
"Then I could feel the terror begin to ease
That churned in my heart's lake all through the night.
As one still panting, ashore from dangerous seas
Looks back at the deep he has escaped, my thought
Returned, still fleeing, to regard that grim defile
That never left alive any who stayed in it."
Depression is a jealous author with a forked tongue. Do not believe it. Reserve for yourself, and yourself alone, the right to tell your story.
"But you--why go back down to such misery?
Why not ascend the delightful mountain, source
And principle that causes every joy?"
NOT SO FAST. Before ascending, one must descend.The path to heaven invariably leads through hell--"To hear the cries of despair, and to behold
Ancient tormented spirits as they lament
In chorus the second death they must abide."
"Help me escape this evil that I face,
And worse. Lead me to witness what you have said,
Saint Peter's gate, and the multitude of woes."
To escape hell, one must first traverse it. The good news is, you can always ask for assistance. Many have walked down the same road; they know the way--and they can help you.
"While I alone was preparing as though for war
To struggle with the journey and with the spirit
Of pity, which flawless memory must redraw."
While others may help guide you, it is up to you to put one foot in front of the other. You, and you alone, can make the pitiless journey through hell.
"But I--what cause, whose favor, could send me forth
Onn such a voyage? I am no Aeneas or Paul:
Not I nor others think me of such worth."
"'If I understand correctly,' the generous shade retorted,
'Cowardice grips your spirit--which can twist
A man away from the noblest enterprise
As a trick of vision startled a shying beast."
Did you hear that? Dante praises you for attempting the journey. If you are strong enough to wade through your own nightmares, you are of immense worth. However often depression tries to convince you otherwise, always know this. "Why be a coward rather than bolder, freer...?
Virgil: "Fear befits things with power for injury/Not things which lack such power."
Depression is a thing that lacks such power--unless you choose to grant it. In fact, depression is no-thing at all.
ABANDON ALL HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE
"All fear must be left here, and cowardice die."
Be fearless in your journey. Countless others have made it before you--and survived.
"The sighs, groans and laments at first were so loud,
Resounding through starless air, I began to weep:
Strange languages, horrible screams, words imbued
With rage or despair, cries as of troubled sleep
Or of a tortured shrillness--they rose in a coil
Of tumult, along with noises like the slap
Of beating hands, all fused in a ceaseless flame
That churns and frenzies that dark and timeless air
Like sand in a whirlwind."
No one ever said it would be easy...
Virgil: "Souls who are good
Never pass this way; therefore, if you hear
Charon complaining at your presence, consider
What that means."
Depression will complain about your presence in its domain, even as it seeks to consume you. That's because it's used to victims--not explorers. Be an explorer, then.
"Peering to find where I was--in truth, the lip
Above the chasm of pain, which holds the din
Of infinite grief: a gulf so dark and deep
And murky that though I gazed intently down
Into the canyon, I could see nothing below."
'Now we descend into the sightless zone...'
Among the most insidious aspects of depression is that it places you right on the rim of "the chasm of pain," without granting you the sharp-sightedness to see what lies below. Since imagination, like nature, abhors a vacuum, it quickly fills the abyss with a grotesque assortment of ghouls and despair.
"'[H]aving no hope, we live in longing."
Longing for happiness, for joy--or for death. Do not believe it--that's the depression talking. What you need is not hope, but the determination to go through with your journey.
"So I descended from first to second circle--
Which girdles a smaller space and greater pain,
Which spurs more lamentation."
In dark woods, the right road lost. To tell
About these woods is hard--so tangled and rough
And savage that thinking of it now, I feel
the old fear stirring; death is hardly more
bitter.
And yet, to treat the good I found there as well
I'll tell what I saw..."
Thus begins your descent. Fear not: you aren't the first to make this journey. Help is available--but only if you tell what you saw. Find someone to whom you can relate your tale. The effects are profoundly cathartic.
"Then I could feel the terror begin to ease
That churned in my heart's lake all through the night.
As one still panting, ashore from dangerous seas
Looks back at the deep he has escaped, my thought
Returned, still fleeing, to regard that grim defile
That never left alive any who stayed in it."
Depression is a jealous author with a forked tongue. Do not believe it. Reserve for yourself, and yourself alone, the right to tell your story.
"But you--why go back down to such misery?
Why not ascend the delightful mountain, source
And principle that causes every joy?"
NOT SO FAST. Before ascending, one must descend.The path to heaven invariably leads through hell--"To hear the cries of despair, and to behold
Ancient tormented spirits as they lament
In chorus the second death they must abide."
"Help me escape this evil that I face,
And worse. Lead me to witness what you have said,
Saint Peter's gate, and the multitude of woes."
To escape hell, one must first traverse it. The good news is, you can always ask for assistance. Many have walked down the same road; they know the way--and they can help you.
"While I alone was preparing as though for war
To struggle with the journey and with the spirit
Of pity, which flawless memory must redraw."
While others may help guide you, it is up to you to put one foot in front of the other. You, and you alone, can make the pitiless journey through hell.
"But I--what cause, whose favor, could send me forth
Onn such a voyage? I am no Aeneas or Paul:
Not I nor others think me of such worth."
"'If I understand correctly,' the generous shade retorted,
'Cowardice grips your spirit--which can twist
A man away from the noblest enterprise
As a trick of vision startled a shying beast."
Did you hear that? Dante praises you for attempting the journey. If you are strong enough to wade through your own nightmares, you are of immense worth. However often depression tries to convince you otherwise, always know this. "Why be a coward rather than bolder, freer...?
Virgil: "Fear befits things with power for injury/Not things which lack such power."
Depression is a thing that lacks such power--unless you choose to grant it. In fact, depression is no-thing at all.
ABANDON ALL HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE
"All fear must be left here, and cowardice die."
Be fearless in your journey. Countless others have made it before you--and survived.
"The sighs, groans and laments at first were so loud,
Resounding through starless air, I began to weep:
Strange languages, horrible screams, words imbued
With rage or despair, cries as of troubled sleep
Or of a tortured shrillness--they rose in a coil
Of tumult, along with noises like the slap
Of beating hands, all fused in a ceaseless flame
That churns and frenzies that dark and timeless air
Like sand in a whirlwind."
No one ever said it would be easy...
Virgil: "Souls who are good
Never pass this way; therefore, if you hear
Charon complaining at your presence, consider
What that means."
Depression will complain about your presence in its domain, even as it seeks to consume you. That's because it's used to victims--not explorers. Be an explorer, then.
"Peering to find where I was--in truth, the lip
Above the chasm of pain, which holds the din
Of infinite grief: a gulf so dark and deep
And murky that though I gazed intently down
Into the canyon, I could see nothing below."
'Now we descend into the sightless zone...'
Among the most insidious aspects of depression is that it places you right on the rim of "the chasm of pain," without granting you the sharp-sightedness to see what lies below. Since imagination, like nature, abhors a vacuum, it quickly fills the abyss with a grotesque assortment of ghouls and despair.
"'[H]aving no hope, we live in longing."
Longing for happiness, for joy--or for death. Do not believe it--that's the depression talking. What you need is not hope, but the determination to go through with your journey.
"So I descended from first to second circle--
Which girdles a smaller space and greater pain,
Which spurs more lamentation."
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