My sweatshirt

I am putting away a sweatshirt today, a very special sweatshirt. It is an ordinary hooded sweatshirt, green and gray in color, with a Bloomingdales logo on it. It is nothing extraordinary – just a common garden-variety sweatshirt. I generally liked it from a sporty warm apparel viewpoint when I bought it, but didn’t realize that it would serve an entirely different purpose as I progressed through life. I have probably had this sweatshirt for easily 20 years or more. It has been with me through the years and it is one that I turn to when I cannot face the world. It is big (oversized) and has a typical muff style pocket and a generous hood. It is the “womb” that I return to when things seem to be more than I can bear. I can pull my arms inside the sweatshirt and pull up the hood and it literally envelopes me. I have been through a tough period lately and the sweatshirt was pulled off the top shelf of the closet, to help me through. It has been my friend, in many ways. I never really thought of it this way, until recently, when I discovered how much I want to wear it when I am feeling down. As I share this in my blog, I am also aware that I would have never written these most personal thoughts even as recently as a year or two ago, but as I grow older it seems pointless to avoid and hide away the struggles that I have in my life.

The fact is that depression is a fact of life for me and when the normal everyday bumps in life hit me, they hit me twice as hard as many people. However, I know that there are many people who are also like me who just don’t have the strength and grit to barrell on ahead in spite of difficult circumstances. Oh how I wish that I had that strength and grit. But I will never stop trying to attain it! I actually think of myself as a survivor in many ways. My life has been a patchwork of dysfunctional relationships and I have worked through all of them and consider myself successful in many ways. I have raised two beautiful young women. I have completed my education and worked steadily for 30 years. I have a husband who loves me. So don’t feel sorry for me – I don’t hesitate to do what I need to do to take care of myself (I’m continuing to learn). But sometimes, I just need to put on that old sweatshirt, tuck in my arms, pull on my hood and get into bed. And that’s okay! I’ll get up again, I promise.