Depression Toolkit #18: Writing

This morning, school: 2 hours, Joseph’s nursery induction. Tiny children. Painting. Skipping pages. Toys.

Lunch: quivering wreck. Couldn’t even feed myself or listen to Joseph. Half-noticed Frasier playing.

This afternoon, school: 1 hour, Lily’s first play. Heat. Picnic. Noise.

So grateful for help and for the opportunity to get away home by myself before I melt into a bundle of nerves. Last night I had a good idea for a book. Or was it yesterday?

Usually writing is my creative outlet, my scream against the night. Now my trembling fingers are sulking and my mind is ewdiufhwleuhfxn. This aches soooo much I just want it over. Please words. Why can my son watch a whole film now, but I cannot? What am I even so angry about? Will it be long before the next chocolate hit? Is school really so nerve-wracking? How can I have a cheerful conversation one minute and be rooted to the spot the next? Does it show? Should it? If I push the bubble too much, will it pop?

I suspect I am going to need to lie low this weekend and let God pick up all my broken pieces, and disturb my muse a little more. Last night I had a good idea for a book. Maybe I can make this happen. One word at a time.


…I did not even consider myself worthy to come to you. But say the word, and my servant will be healed…

Luke 7:7


One response to “Depression Toolkit #18: Writing

  1. while reading i was reminded of a switchfoot song called ‘sing it out’. you can google the lyrics or a youtube video if you like. it’s one i come back to quite often.

    [this is what the switchfoot frontman jon foreman says about it: “Sometimes I lose the plot. I feel like I’m hopelessly lost underwater, as though I can’t figure out which way is up. I know that there’s a song somewhere inside of me but I just can’t remember what it is. I want my life to be the poetry of the Poet himself, I want to sing- to be a melody intertwined with The Melody Himself. But sometimes I’m hopelessly lost, broken, spent. I fall in love with the ones and things that take life and love away from me. I need The Song Himself to sing through me. I need The Word Himself to speak into me.”]

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