Weathering the Storms

Thoughts on the coinciding approach of a desert storm and another impending bout of depression.

The mood in the sky matched the mood in my head. Although it was sunny and pleasant around me, dark ominous clouds had gathered in the east. They were intimidating and powerful, rising along the horizon of red rock hills. They darkened to near black as they reached into a threatening wall. The wall slowly moved in my direction across the beautiful desert landscape.

I stood in the middle of the street in front of my house. The sun felt warm and comforting on my back. It had been a beautiful week and I had not anticipated the storm bearing down on me.

It had been a few weeks since I had felt the crush of depression and I had failed to watch for the predictable signs that had been a pattern throughout my life, just as I had failed to watch the forecast and was blindsided by this turn of weather.

The wind picked up as the temperature dropped. Lightning flashed across the skyline. Desert storms were moody, unpredictable, and even beautiful, and you never knew when it was going to dance through gracefully or when it was going to leave a trail of destruction from flash floods, fires, and downed fences and trees.

Sometimes, the coming storm made me anxious, not knowing how long it would last until the sun came out again. The anxiety would climb as I anticipated the dark, the cold, and the potential damage it would leave. Other times, my inner mood matched the storm so well that I welcomed it and wallowed in its gloominess.

I took a deep breath as a cold raindrop landed on my face. I turned back to enjoy what remained of the sun behind me.

This time, although I had a knot in my stomach, I knew it would soon pass.

I turned and walked into the house to the loved ones who would help me weather both storms.