The Healing Space
A metaphorical story through the journey of depression
As the sun set on another day, she felt thankful to have made it through. Survival was her holy grail and she questioned her purpose in what seemed like a hopeless existence.
The days were long and hard as she worked tirelessly doing a job she didn’t enjoy. She was at the bottom of the food chain in all aspects of life, glossed-over by most, yet preyed on by many.
Her thoughts were clouded by fear and many took advantage of her weakness. She was intimidated by those around her, those who were bigger, braver, stronger, prettier and more successful.
Rightly or wrongly, she felt that no matter which turn she took, a predator would be waiting to devour her, taking advantage of her inferior position.
That night as she sat in her favorite spot surveying everything around her, she began to realize how small she was. The open space before her, whilst seemingly still, was full of life, manifested in the song of the robins that flew overhead, the chirping of the crickets on the damp ground and the rustling of the leaves in the cool, gentle breeze.
Despite the life around her she felt dead on the inside, numb and isolated. Each morning she’d wake only to ‘rinse and repeat’ the daily routine with an accustomed emotional numbness. She’d become quite good at parading around a mask of smiles, such that would not be discovered if the skin was worn away.
Sometimes, when surrounded by others the masquerade almost felt like truth. Yet in the quiet moments her loneliness spoke in long silences, her dreams a slideshow of black and white photos converging to convey the life she’d hoped for.
She had been dealt a bad hand, life’s circumstances attempting to dig her an early grave. She’d given her all day-in-day-out, much to her detriment, but it was now time.
Time to allow herself the space to grieve losses and heal from hurts.
Time to retreat into a quiet space.
Time to permit herself to withdraw from perpetual responsibilities.
Time to authorize herself to reorient her purpose, focus on her dreams and work on herself.
As she cocooned herself away from the pressures, uncertainties and fears of the outside world and swaddled herself in the promises of hope and purpose, an unusual feeling began to emerge. A feeling of calm intertwined with a sense of security.
Perhaps it was a feeling of peace.
Taking the time out to mend her soul set in motion the journey of growth. With each passing day, as she invested in herself and gave herself space, a transformation began to unfold. The fantasy world she’d previously dreamed about, where life was beautiful — where she was beautiful, felt within arm’s reach.
Her strength grew, her confidence blossomed and the clouds began to dissipate to reveal the hope of a brighter new day. Slowly, she began to feel ready to emerge. Her metamorphosis was almost complete.
She tentatively pushed her way from her cocooned safe haven. Her eyes widened as she saw the world through a new lens. The fog had lifted, the sharp pain of before now a mere, dull ache.
She breathed in the fresh new air encompassing new perspective. Her view of the world being taken in from a higher angle.
She was ready to flourish and fit to fly.
She opened her wings and the butterfly was born.
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