Where does it come from?

I'm pondering depression.
Why are some people so affected and others not touched at all by the demon of depression?
Easy to understand the misery that follows some trauma or life shattering event, although in my case the depression is very different from the initial shock and horror of the events that turned my mind and heart inside out. Initial feelings following my traumas have been raw emotions, real and sharp and terrifying. The later feelings are much more damaging, deep unshakable misery and a feeling of such helplessness and lack of hope that it is possible to feel completely and utterly bleak.
To wake up and feel immediate regret at waking up, the first emotion or thought being a low down moan of misery at the prospect of facing another day.....then the voluntary thoughts begin, the battling, fighting, resentful 'how dare you' thoughts where my conscoius mind takes umbridge at being so punished and a determination that the misery won't win today.
I am incredibly intolerant of depression and shamelessly harsh on people who allow this devil to take over and affect the lives of those NOT battling it, my head, and at times my heart, wants nothing more than to sit and stare at a wall. There are times when it would be a sheer delight to not move, to stay curled up and not face that daily task of putting on a cheery face.Then I think of how I will feel when the demon has lost, has given up and understood that in my heart he didn't win, in my mind he found no place to rot and fester and he goes away so my joy can take the whole space and explode in uninterrupted bliss. What guilt would I feel at such wasted time now?
There is SUCH joy inside me, such incredible feelings of gratefulness and an awareness of the immeasurable blessings that are mine.
I think often of the Hymn " count your blessings" ( which actually is a glorious one to sing as it's so rousing!)
Count your blessings name them one by one, count your blessings see what God has done....

I would bore you to tears if I named them one by one but they are plentiful and they are HUGE.Which is why I'll be damned is I'm going to give in and sink when the misery tries to get me.
Actually a side effect of eating well has been that the depression is lifting, how bloody marvellous is that? How good is it to see that what I eat affects who I am ( oh shut up with the trite 'you are what you eat' quotes, let me pretend I have discovered this all on my own!)
Of course there is the knowledge that in taking time to prepare mouth watering shrimp salad and baking salmon in lemon juice I am indeed treating myself as if I am of enormous worth which can only make me feel of worth. Having a section of the fridge that is MINE and woe betide any trim youngster who feels they might help themselves, has to make me feel as if perhaps I am a bit special and worthy of treats ....much better than shovelling in left over crisps and half eaten chocolate bars dumped by unappreciative children, while no-one is looking as if all I am worth is the leftovers eaten in shame.
When tempted this week to eat the food of the lowly, I have been able to scoff and tell myself that THIS body is deserving of the very best, it has captured, housed, grown and delivered six of the most perfect and divine children, with barely a hiccup or thought.
Despite being so ill treated it continues to work and perform every act asked of it with the minimum of groans or creaks ( and don't forget those legendary pelvic floor muscles that still allow me to cough without peeing, although I'm almost sure I couldn't jump and say the same).....nearly 43 years of doing what it was made for without complaint. Does it not then, deserve a bit of kindness? Should I then treat it as a car coming up to its vintage years and use the finest oil instead of the cheap and cheerful dollar store stuff? I think so.
I am hoping that with a bit of kindness and some special treatment, with some supergrade oil and some gentle ministrations it will feel a desire for some fine tuning and I will feel that exercise would be the ultimate treat for myself.......but miracles don't come too easily and we're not holding out for one just yet!
My dreams for the future are simple enough, to have a picture taken of myself with my children....20 years a mother and no pictures to show it. If anything were to happen to me my children would be justified in thinking they came from under a goosberry bush as there is no photographic evidence that they came from or were nurtered by me!!
If I were really brave I would take a picture now so that if I ever achieve the goal of looking half way decent I could compare the two...just not brave enough and I know I'll regret it later!
I long to wear a t-shirt that is tight because it was made to fit not because it is too small, one that isn't as long as it's wide to cover the colossal backside that I am lucky enough to be in front of and not forced to view. One that shows the contour of my glorious ski slope, plastic surgery lifted and reduced breasts at their absolute best rather than showing them off like pimples on an elephants arse because they have stayed a petite B cup while the rest of me has ballooned to enormous proportions.
I want to go to the park and actually play on the slide with my children and not visualise myself getting stuck halfway down and being the object of abject humiliation that would result.
I REALLY want to know that I can meet my little boys from school and have people not notice me or to have people astounded that I am mother not only to 3 little boys but also to three grown people, if I were to feel younger I know I would look younger and feeling hot, uncomfortable, embarrassed and ashamed does nothing to encourage feelings of youth or liveliness!
So, I am enjoying this new found feeling of being important, of allowing myself to treat my body the way it deserves to be treated and being nice to it. I will wake up each day and feel excitement that today I have the chance to do it all over again.
It's pretty good to wake up and feel a glimmer of positivity that here is another day when I am in charge of who I am and what I do. It isn't up to another soul how I feel, no-one else's job to make me feel happy or worthy or even just good. I can do it for myself and the ripple effect of that is that the people around me can bask in the reflection of light instead of cower in the eminated misery.......ugh damned depression, surely the tool of the devil, well this week I can say "get thou behind me satan." Actually, he can stand by my feet and I'll stamp on him because he's not winning in this heart, not this week.



In true Bridget Jones style. 7lbs lost 77 to go. ( shall I record every saturday to give myself encouragement? Maybe so.....although weight loss is a huge bonus, not the only reason for my newfound approach on life)