Hello, how strange to find you here

Almost out of desperation, I started doing my morning pages again. You know those Julia Cameron-inspired-3-stream-of-consciousness pages of writing that cramps your hand first thing every morning? That's what I'm talking about. Maybe you were caught by the word 'desperation' – and I wouldn't blame you. The truth: I was depressed. Whether it was hormonally induced, stressed induced or just that perfect storm that had me falling apart, it wasn't pretty and I also had to figure out how to pull myself back together.
The art of pulling oneself back together does not mean climbing back into the same saddle and forging onward. Not for me, anyway. I have to do it the hard way – the only way that really works. I have to be honest with myself and remember who I am. I've got to look in the mirror and say, 'well, hello there, stranger – where have you been?'
I am an expert at getting out of touch with myself. No one can submerge with such competence as I. Hardly a ripple crosses the surface of my articulate and well put together veneer. I just can't hold my breath as long as I used to. I'm very thankful for that.
I don't like depression – it terrifies me. And yet, that's what will happen if I keep forgetting about my connection to soul. When I start to live in the buzz of the hive and forget that I have wings that can carry me outside. On the other hand, depression is a message – so says James Hollis – and it speaks to me of stagnation. Depression tells me that I am mired in particular patterns that no longer nurture me.
The bubble popped. I started writing. I took time off and I ordered seeds for my garden. I wrote about what I want – where I want to go – how I find inspiration. I wrote about stepping back into the questions that help me grow without caring where that road is going to lead. I stopped thinking about goals and end results and wrote about what was in my heart and on my mind.
Journaling is a mirror – reflective and clear when I make sure to be as honest as I can. And I found the beginnings of myself again.
I think I'd better keep writing and make that stranger feel at home.