Laughter in the Dark

I recently read a blog of a Bipolar person that was so dark, so painful that I nearly cried. I skimmed some of her "About Me" posts (there were several) and previous blog pages, and they were equally morbid. I walked away with such a heaviness...I mourn for this lady.

I know depression. It is the pole I "visit" most. I have had times in my life where the pain has been so acute that waking is a nightmare itself. Most often, I feel empty or numb. One thing that sets me apart, for which I am most grateful, is that I still recognize and can be moved somewhat by something very funny. I can laugh or chuckle in the darkness of my despair. I can still employ my own ironic or sarcastic sense of humor, (mostly self-depricating). My wit deserts me, but I appreciates someone else's fast retorts. (Mr. PolarBabe is notorious for his quick wit.) It doesn't cause a sustainable elevation of my mood--I return to my emptiness straight away. Nevertheless, I am grateful for the momentary reprieve.

How I wish I could loan some laughter to this lady. She really seems to need some light, even if it's a tiny pinprick of sun shining through the dark. I am amazed at her strength to keep going through the evident oppression of her pain.

Given my previous statments about whiney and needy people, you would think I'd rail against this person. Not her. She didn't feel sorry for herself in any of the blog pages I read. (I read another one like that from someone else and I wanted to slap her). This lady is introspective, thoughtful and carries her own burdens. She quite likely doesn't allow someone to help her, yet I feel she needs it so much. Maybe it's just that I identify with that, rather than a needy person and I'm just too hard on people with those struggles. I don't know. All I know is that I want to make this woman laugh. Even if it's only once.

PolarBabe