I see you there in the dark place, sitting alone. The silence is so loud, it’s deafening. Judgements of ourselves swirl around us, we are haunted by past versions of ourselves and taunted by predictions of the future. 

Everything is heavy here. Everything is scary. The air is a thick fog of shame that weighs on every inch of the body. The weight is too immense. It’s invisible and crushing.

We work hard to make sure we’re alone in our dark places. It has always been safer to be alone. From the start, we have learned to manage everything on our own. We push people away, refuse help and withdraw from others. We don’t want people to see what it’s really like here. If they saw what it’s like where they wouldn’t understand, couldn’t understand. The dark place has convinced us that we are a burden and we are alone in this experience. 

The dark place is a place I know well and I’ve have spent so much time I can recite the stories the dark place tells us by heart: to kill ourselves, that we are unloveable, we are inherently flawed, we escape this pain because it will never end, there’s something wrong with is, that no one really knows who we are, life will never get better or easier. The slippery story of this place weedles its way into the mind of the traumatized, the mind of the addict, the anxious and avoidant mind. The longer the dark story goes unchallenged, the louder it becomes and the harder it is to manage. 

If you are there now, I won’t try to pull you out. The dark place has its hold on you, for now. I don’t want you to split in two. Instead I’m going to get in there with you, in your dark place, sitting beside you. Is that OK? Maybe we are on a bench together, maybe we are just staring at a wall. It doesn’t really matter what we do, just that we do it together. It is how we are hard-wired, to connect. Even though the dark place has convinced you that it’s safer to be alone, no one should be alone in the dark place. I’m with you, sitting beside you. Breathing in and out as the stories and self-judgments swirl around us. Let them swirl, watch them as they go. 

There’s nothing to figure out or problem solve when we are in the dark place. Our goal is to simply survive. Accept we are in the dark place for now and do our best to hold on. Hold onto the bed you are laying on. Hold on to that memory of kindness from someone somewhere. Hold on to yourself and you can hold on to me too. We all need something to hold on to. 

I know my dark place well and when the story is loud I will hold on. Even when the depression tells you horrible things about you, just hold on. You don’t need to fight or resist the story. Just let the story swirl. It’s just the story that depression tells you. It is not the truth, even when it feels like the truth. This is just a story of depression. 

Hold on. 

Authored by Annie Amirault RSW, MSW/Psychotherapist & Co-Founder of Relearning Human