“The mind is its own place, and in itself, can make heaven of Hell, and a hell of Heaven.” – John Milton
This one is for Lynn, again. Lover, sometimes I’m slow to get it, but I do get there eventually
The other day, as I was “not-sleeping” in a hotel room in Atlanta, I was thinking about the tricky things my mind has been known to do. My mind, under the influence of The Black Thing, had a distinct trick it liked to do to me, in order to try and drive me down.
The tricks The Black Thing would play, frequently fell onto this area of my mind and emotions. What it dearly loved to do, is to start me remembering, and toss in some insecurity. Mix in a bit of depression, and perhaps a day or two of not-so-good-sleep, and that Black Thing could gain a toehold, and start trying it’s damndest to get in and overwhelm.
Over the past two years, I’ve gotten much better about fending it off; I have learned some bitter lessons in fighting and effective responses to the deepening depression. I’ve learned some wonderful lessons, too: that my family does care, that I am allowed to have friends, and let them care too. I’ve learned that there are medical people that can help, and therapists and priests and even cats and dogs, and at various times I’ve made use of them all, to certain degrees.
So, I’m hanging in a hotel room, last week, when the old “but how do you know she does”, started to come by.
Wanna know a secret? A secret that I’ll share with anyone at all, the world, I’ll shout it from the mountains even? Tell the moon, the stars, this secret, cuz I can?
Well, I’m going to tell you anyway, whether or not you want to know:
It doesn’t work anymore.
That little voice, attempting to slide in, make me doubt, make me slip down into the darkness? I answered it, this time, with a very simple declaration: “I know, because I can feel it”.
What a wonderful thing, what a wonderful realization that I have that knowledge back, internally. There are a lot of things I know intellectually, that still carry emotional baggage along; and some things, that I know emotionally, that have their irrational components.
But this one, was both- I know because Lynn has done all she can to reassure me of her love, in words; and, I know in my heart, because although I’m slow on the “getting it”, that stint in the nut-hut really did drive it into my guts; watching her, seeing the honest pain she was feeling, was horrible. But it certainly does make it clear, that I am loved, and cared about.
Pretty cool, to know that again.
SO, Mr. John Milton: I’m making my own heaven, and I don’t think I’m making it of hell, either- just a bit of Therese’s Heaven on Earth around here. And even in a hotel room
PS- Yeah, I know several of you have been telling me this for as long as we’ve been chatting, and all I can say is some things need to get “internalized” at their own speed, and I’m sorry for taking so long to know what you’ve seen clearly. Thanks for hanging through it with me, too.