Melancholy

I have been struggling a great deal with melancholy. The melancholy that I have experienced since entering my forties has been notably different than the depressive feelings that I have grown so accustomed to all my life. As my herbalist friend introduced me to black cohosh to help with this particular symptom, she explained that at this time of life, the melancholy women feel can sometimes be what is called “black cloud depression” and it descends very quickly, and more heavily than even my most darkest moments of depression, which are quite pronounced. This feeling has certainly earned its name, and I find it more terrifying than my usual depression, even with its accompanying suicidal nature. It is almost as if rather than despair, it is complete and utter indifference. A wish within to be removed without a trace, but with none of the feelings of worthlessness, just a feeling of conclusion. I am done. I am ready to move on. There is nothing left for me here. That is how I have experienced it, and yet there is emotion with it….it is strange. Tears will just suddenly spring to my eyes, and sometimes I will cry and cry and cry, and yet it is so unlike anything else I have felt in all of my life. I really just don’t know how to describe it. My boss’ doctor told her, “Some women can really become unglued during this time”, and that phrase has always stuck with me. Unglued. Detached. Removed. Dismantled. Unhinged.

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