Most of the times, I feel as if I am behind a veil watching the world go about its business. It is not my religion or my culture that decrees wearing of a veil by females in public places. It is a personal disposition of sorts that I have had for years, from my childhood perhaps.
A psychiatrist might call it a mild depression. I am not sure, for the only time I gathered up courage to visit one was when I cried so much before, during and after the appointment. I do not remember much what happened. Or the diagnosis or the prognosis. I only remember being looked at suspiciously, as if I really were mentally very unstable. I was prescribed medication, that I never took.
In retrospect, I think I had gone to talk, to find empathy, sympathy even. I just wanted a confirmation of my existence, that it was not a mistake and that the veil would not be defining. That somebody understood. That day, I came back empty handed.
The veil exists very really for me. I feel as if I am separated from the world, looking on but unable to feel much of what is going on. I am watching a movie but I am not part of it. I rarely feel involved and when I do, it is exhilarating. The exhilaration does not last long.
It is rather tiring after a while. Draining. Sucking the life energy out of me as if I had much to start with. I want a solution. My mind races on, through all that I have heard about or read about or thought about. The various theories, the exhortations, the strategies. I have been through most of them. I want one solution. Not a series. One definitive step.
Then I turn to Gratitude. I sit down with my journal, the one I had set aside. Bright yellow, in hope of brightening my days. I write down ten reasons I am grateful. I put it away. The next morning, I have a date with my Gratitude journal again. I write down ten more reasons for my supposed happiness. Each time I do this, the veil gets translucent. I can glimpse more of the outside. I make it a routine. Each morning. Twice a day, when things as looking up. Sometimes I slide back into despair. But I pick myself up. For nowhere else would I find The Solution.
Thanks to the practice of Gratitude, the veil seems to be slipping. And in the glimpse of the world, I see pieces of myself.