I read that last nights Super Moon is actually called the “Mourning Moon.” Reading this satisfied my inner witch and helped me wake up this morning recharged and inspired.
I couldn’t wait to feel this, all day, just to come home to my newly put up Christmas tree (a little early but I love it), and my puppy Kali. I couldn’t wait to sit on my computer for the first time and write.
This moon was important, but because this day is important; this moment. Because I didn’t come home ready to take on this piece, whatever it turned out to be. I came home and realized my dark and twisties don’t care what I had planned this day. It doesn’t matter that all day I felt strong – I came home ready to fall apart.
The moon was important but not as important as the message that clinical depression is real. And, I like to think I’m cured most of the time and then someone decides to stop taking her very useful Western medication and wonders why it gets harder for her to breathe more and more every day. The fact that, depression doesn’t give you any warning on when she’ll be back to bite you in the ass. She doesn’t care that a new moon meant everything to your dark, twisted, witchy soul. Being depressed is more than just one feeling, for one moment. It’s everything and nothing for certain, all at once. It’s feeling every bit of pain, full force, and not having an exact reason why – not always, at least.
The new moon is a signal of changes that are to come. Maybe to some it’s purely symbolic, but to me it’s literal. It’s my life. It’s what I have to hold on to, when the dark and twisties get to dark to pull myself out from.