Battling Depression -- via a Young Don Quixote

As a child I was always intrigued by a section of gnarled tree trunk
that was carved into the head of Don Quixote.
 It never occurred to me to wonder who Don Quixote was; 

after all, he was just some guy dad liked.

Dad also had a small wooden piece, only a few inches tall, a 

skinny old guy with knobby knees, pointed helmet, and tall spear-thing. 

My brother now has these in a niche in his den.  
A good friend has a silkscreen print of Don Quixote on a horse, 
again a scrawny guy wearing a pointed helmet 

and holding a  lance, all drawn with a striking grungy outline.

I finally wondered, who is this Don Quixote?

Well, he’s a guy who seems to be simply silly or crazy-as-anything.

Maybe that’s because he goes through his days with boundless hope.  

Or maybe it’s because he thinks every 

windmill is a giant enemy that needs to be slain. 

(At this point it occurred to me that the pic of dad at nine, 

grinning big-enough-to-beat-all as he sat on a horse, 

would be perfect to alter: Young Don Quixote!)

Seems to me that jousting with windmill blades is either crazy or delightful.  

I think it’s a delightful metaphor 
for battling depression -- that visible/invisible 

giant-of-an-enemy found in homes far and wide.

What a way to bring a smile to your eyes and a lift of the chin:  to face

the day with an imaginary lance (how about this candy-cane striped one 

I found on flickr?) ready to battle any giant you might encounter.

Enjoy!  Click comments below to share your fav Don Quixote story, 

your battle with those visible/invisible-giants-of-depression-or-you-name-it, 

or anything else on your mind.  (Yes, you can

also still email me -- people love to read comments though

as we grow, think, and learn together.)

Dare ... to Dive In

Prologue

No, I won’t do it, she thought.  

I want to see what will happen.  What will become of them.  

There’s something special in them ... 

It returned.  

Fully formed like Athena sprung from the head of Zeus.  

But it's not beautiful like that Roman Goddess, 

and she's not fully armed and ready to lead in battle.  

Carol begins her chemo on Monday.  

She is fully armed for battle and has even posted 

a rallying cry on her cancer website.

I’ve decided to journey with her and channel that moxy. 

I’ll revisit the scene of my battle and post journal entries from 

that time in my life, just a couple of years ago.  

So ... Why would that take moxy, guts, nerve? 

Because cancer wasn’t the biggest battle.  

For that I received the accompanying Medal of Honor.  

For that I constantly receive a warm congratulatory smile 

accompanied by the concerned follow-up, how are you now? 

My biggest battle was with the Dirty D.  Depression.  

For that one most often receives a kind but confused smile 

accompanied by a veiling over the eyes and a murmered 

something-or-other followed by a change of topic.  

Unless ... one has faced the Dirty D.  

But even then ... shhh quietly echoes in our heads 

... shhh -- someone might hear! 

The discomfort and reticence to talk about Depression

are shadowy residuals of a shame 

 that is still present in our culture.  

!!!Thank God cancer is no longer a topic of shame and silence!!!  

Someday I hope the same to be true for depression.

Today I begin my battle against any lingering shame of depression.   

It will take place on three fronts:  

   The Cancer-Radiation Arena with posts from my cancer journals 

   The Anxiety-Depression Arena with past and present reflections

   Continued posts on the Spiritual Arena with creative whimsical images

I hope you’ll join me and post your comments.  

Go ahead!  You can always post anonymously if you prefer.  

And yes, you can still email me privately.

Ohhhhhh CrapCrapCRAP!!!  Lost EvERY WoRD of this POst!!!  

Fine!  I’ll re-write and re-post!!!   Hah.  First battle.  Won it. 

Here goes the post and the image I just created.