Foggy Mornings and Depression

𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒓.

I drove through the fog this morning on my way to work, feeling dazed and off-kilter. In places it was so dense I could barely see past the hood of my car. I made out the edges of the country road and anxiously searched out the familiar landmarks to find my turn. I turned and crept my way down the hill only to find in the hollow at the base of the hill a breathtaking respite from the mind muddling fog. The clarity and beauty in that little hollow felt like such an allegory to my life, I had to document it. As I attempted to continue on, my tires spun and slipped on the icy road and I slowly made it up the incline and to a long stretch and found in those few moments of pure appreciation for the place I found myself, the fog had lifted.

In my daily life, I walk through a fog – relying on routine and familiarity to make the same moves day after day. It takes sinking into the bottom to find my sense of direction. I slip and sometimes fall on my way up. I am determined though. I will not let the fog drag me back down. I know the path on the other side is always clearer than when I started.

If you too get lost in the fog, remember that fog tends to lift in low lying places sooner. The journey, although frustratingly hard and slows you down on your way to your destination, is worth the pain and confusion when you find your moments of peaceful clarity.