A Tale of Two Houses
The other day I was driving to Des Moines and passed a couple houses on the county road south of town. Both of these houses had sustained damage during the tornado last November that also went through Stratford. One house was a direct hit, only the walls of the first floor were left after the tornado went past. Their machine shed had only the concrete slab leftover. So in the meantime they have completely rebuilt the buildings on the property. The other house looks undamaged. Their machine shed was only halfway destroyed, but it was also completely rebuilt. The second house also sustained damage and will take a few months to repair, but the damage is inside the walls. Fortunately it is structurally sound, but the winds of the tornado gave it a slight twist and raised cracks, dropped plaster in the walls and made a few doors no longer close right.
As I was driving past and thinking of the stories of those houses, it occurred to me that depression is a lot like the second house. There are other diseases that everyone can see right away are present and are in need of support and time for healing, but not depression or any other emotional/mental disease. They are hidden from view, yet are in just as much need for support and time for healing.
This is true for other people as it is for me. I can learn to ignore the cracks in my own internal makeup for quite a while. I can adjust to not having my life fit together right for a while, but over time if I don’t do the work to get life back into plumb and restored, the wall will fall down and the cracks will take over.
I have to remember that. And I sometimes wish people would be able to understand that as well, but to do that I have to become a walking illness and that doesn’t fit well with the idea of working toward recovery. There is a fine line between being open and honest about my illness, and obsessing about it to the point of becoming identified as the illness.
Not sure if there is a solution to this. Just reflecting and wishing I guess.
