About..... "Shadows of My Mind"
A song written in the pit of desolation, and was recorded in it to. And is about that very desolation. The devastation when love has gone, to leave pure void.
The frustration of depression. The way the goals you desire seem so far away they are become unobtainable. Non-violent people I believe are more likely to suffer depression. The burning anger is not exhaled but inhaled. Absorbed into the body, rather then released from it in the direction of the offender.
Depression has a devastating domino effect. Something important to you goes desperately wrong, that it begins to cause you to make errors in the things that were going right and one by one they fail too. Until it becomes a cascade where everything is going wrong and you can`t stop it, stem the flow, or even predict how far your going to fall.
Devastation is when you are in the pit. You normally know when you`re there. It`s when you smile and simply say it can`t get any worse, and then something even worse happens. But you sink no lower. Numb with pain.
From childhood, we love to be loved. We all want to be the centre of attention. Yet childhood is the learning process of learning that not everybody does love you. In fact some people can make your life a complete misery. Sometimes for reasons you have no control over. Sometimes for reasons that are utterly wrong.
Who is worse, the one who says that are going to rob you, and do, or those who say they won't and do?
The desolation I have experienced in my life, has been deepest when a broken relationship is involved. The disbelief that someone who trusted so much, now will not share confidences. The fear in that they may reveal to the world the secrets and fears that you are trying to hide from it.
And still trying to convince yourself that it's not really over. That it's just a test they're giving you. That suddenly they are going to burst through the door full of hugs and apologies. Lots of tears and hugs and reconciliation. The movie story ending.
To find yourself in life’s reality. Staring at an unopened door hours later, or sitting by a silent phone, in silent tears of despair.
Instead we can cry no more, and fall into the sanctuary of sleep. Where we can manipulate the memories and scenarios. Into something of the perfection not possible in reality. To return with rose-tinted glasses to the best days, and guide the story to a different conclusion. But waking to shattering reality.
Men cry inside. They are known for it. Woman rarely see it, or realize how much it hurts. Medics recognize that internal injuries are more serious then external ones and harder to fix. Maybe it's the same with emotions.