Whenever I get depressed, I tend to think that I am the only person around who feels depressed. I fear burdening others with it and enter quarantine mode. With every step back, I become touchy and overly sensitive, making it even more difficult to bond and even more necessary to hide myself away until the storm passes. The last thing open to me is loving intimacy, so I keep my distance.
I often write that hell is to think oneself too broken for love. That is precisely my experience of depression. Too broken for love. Apparently, my recipe for healing, according to the universe, is to “break” and discover that love is not off limits.
Yesterday, I was sitting in a cafe grading exam papers. Going to the cafe was an effort to venture out in public and spend some time in the presence of other people, but two things have made it challenging. I weep all the time, and each day involves at least one earthshaking panic attack.
After an hour at my little table by the window, the ache inside my body began to intensify and push its way out. The background noise of sorrow became a high pitched wail. I wanted to sob but resisted the urge. No! I’m not going to run to the bathroom and cry. Must stay strong!
After a while, my body began to tighten, and I felt a panic attack coming. I gripped my seat. The room was spinning. My heart beat faster, and my arms trembled. Still, I remained in my seat. Breath in, breath out. Ever so slowly, the terror became tolerable.
I felt very alone and longed for some comforting affection but thought, “In a state like this, love is definitely off limits.”
At just that moment, a man sitting across from me answered his phone. “I need to speak quietly. I’m in a cafe,” I heard him say.
The words “just feeling so depressed” arose from his whispers, and I became still, listening intently. He described being in a period of depression, feeling alone, and trying different things to feel better, like exercise and vitamins.
You too? A warmth descended on my heart.
Then, he told a story. He was sitting in a public place feeling very depressed. I didn’t catch the word. A cafe or bar perhaps. He eventually noticed that a girl sitting twenty five feet away was looking at him. They began to notice each other.
She moved a little closer. They continued to glance at one another, and she moved closer still. Closer and closer until after thirty minutes, she was sitting beside him.
They began to talk. Few words were exchanged. Soon, however, they were making out.
My mouth fell open.
“It was incredible,” he said. He raved for several minutes, his voice becoming louder. The experience was magical. They kissed for a long time, then he walked her home.
He hung up, and I sat stunned in my seat. One minute, he was out in public feeling depressed and alone, and the next, he was being intimately kissed by a stranger. I started laughing to myself and returned to my work.
