The Monster 

Life has been more painful than usual lately. I could elaborate on the details, but then that would only cause more pain to others and wisdom is more often found in silence. So, the breath of speech is held, and the invisible fingers of mist wind slowly around my neck. Clasped over my throat, those fingers massage the pain into an increasing strangle. I will not share that with anyone more than is absolutely necessary for me to try and get rid of it. So, you won't know what it is that is bothering me, or the confused mess I feel myself in.

Details aside, I will say that my depression is in full form. I have personified in the past as a hulking monster, yet seemingly-affable, that sits beside you on a low stool and whispers in your ear from behind how much it loves you. This is the monster that eats your horrified shadow while you watch, powerless to resist. And once having had your shadow eaten, you become part monster yourself, inured to the good feelings the same way you were before, emotionally numb with only the hints of a dull cold shock of pain glazing over your eyes to indicate that anything might be really wrong. You are zombie. You are ghost.

I have wrestled with this monster before. I wish him on no one because he is truly an evil that has no hope of redemption. Even the hands of compassion are withered and decayed when they reach out to it in the hopes of soothing him. But, his is a nature that cannot be soothed, a devouring fire that burns and sears mens' hearts. The villagers of happy life have selected me, the warrior against the monster of depression, to venture into the dark and chilly bogs of pain and prevent him invading their town. They trust that I can do it, even if they do not see the scars of horror that gets branded on my own soul. My shield is nearly broken and my sword is chipped from a million constant skirmishes, but it is my duty to face it. I have been selected. And it is much my fate to be banished from the town and fight this monster in order that others will not have to face him on their own. I will not share him. The monster, part my own creation anyway, is solely my responsibility. As a traveler, hunter of this frigid beast, I can see the outskirts of the town of happiness, peer at the huts, watch the men hold their children and express love for their wives and the people they care about. But, I know they will also never see me. I am hidden in a thicket of brambles, lost in an envelope of a million shadows. I venture further into to the shadows to face him again. He will never see the town as I have. I know I can stop him from that, but it won't be easy. The mortal dangers of the battle are frighteningly real so it is imperative that I do not lose to him.

18 May 2010
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