Sick and Single: Only one is a condition

For No Shame Day I intended to write something far more eloquent. Instead, this is what I came up with. When you pray, remember those who suffer...

Sick and single - only one is a "condition"

"When in the darkness, I would grope, faith always sees a star of hope." Beams of Heaven

No, it does not. In the darkness, in that living, breathing metaphor for the mental illness that plagues me, I do not always see a star of hope. Perhaps my unembodied faith does, but I do not. I see only the thick darkness that is pierced by streetlights and on a good night, the light of the moon when it is properly positioned with respect to the sun. 

Being ill is bad enough and to relieve the world of the burden of caring for us, we take it on boldly. But in so doing, in our attempts to avoid sounding like we are chronic complainers, we often endure it alone. No one wants to be alone when she is sick. Surely, I can manage to pour a glass of water and dump a pill or two into my own hand. There is relief for the physical symptoms that can be found in small pills with numbers or letters etched into them. But the real healing from the pain of mental illness often comes from the gift of presence. A silent, understanding presence. The kind of comfort that we remember from childhood when we could climb into an adult's safe lap and feel loved. That is sufficient. Just to be loved is enough. Just to know that mine are not the only eyes trying to pierce the dark midnight of depression. Just to know that this too shall pass, but until it does, I am not left to bear the burden of it by myself. A hand to hold or a gentle caress of the cheek will keep the darkness at bay if only for a moment. Yet, for the single ones, that small gesture is often more elusive than the cure itself.

When the mind and the body change the rules by which you live, you find yourself trapped in a prison that tortures you and it feels as if you are in fact the guard. The ultimate betrayal is that your body has become your prison and your mind is the warden who forgets to feed you and who by default, assigns you to solitary confinement where you are abandoned by that which has imprisoned you and then the punishment is complete, for you have not even your mind to accompany you in this prison. This is the unimaginable reality for some and the overwhelming truth for others. 

The secret of mental illness - whether depression, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder or another designation - is the reversible cloak of darkness and solitude. We will try to hide and can only hope that someone will seek us...find us...touch us...help to heal us. Some of us are sick and single...only one is recognized by the medical community - as a condition.