A Sepia World

Before you know it, the darkness closes in and it’s hard to see anything. You search and feel for any sense of light in the midst of the walls of the storm clouds building up all around you. You are grasping for air as you are being suffocated by the storm closing in around you. You can’t hear anything as the thunder grows louder and louder. Everything that was once in color is harder to see.

The world no longer looks like a color film. It’s now in hues of sepia and black and white. You yearn to know that their is vibrancy in the darkness. That the colors of the flowers and the tress will come into full focus again. But this wall of clouds is still closing in around you. And the noises are only getting louder.

Watching my mom live with a mental illness and watching friends suffer with depression and anxiety hearts my heart. This is what I picture their worlds to be like; yearning to see the color again and knowing that this storm cloud can build up around you at anytime. Depression is an evil cunning effective liar. And together we must show each other truth.

The truth is that we are not on this journey alone. With a crayon in my hand, my hand moves across the picture adding green to the trees, blue to the sky, and filling in the colors wherever I can. In addition, I’ll stand in those storm clouds with you; blocking you from whatever debris I can.

Before we know it, the clouds will clear and the movie of life will come back into color with full focus. The storm will come again. And then the world will return to sepia and black and white. But together, this liar of depression will not win. It will be crushed by life, hope, and love in this broken world. And the world will no longer be in hues of sepia but filled with the    diversity of colors the world has to offer us all.

6 thoughts on “A Sepia World

  1. Such a touching post, Tara. It is hard to watch close friends or family deal with anxiety and depression and mental illness. I pray that God would help us be more aware and able to help them in their suffering.

    Blessings to you, dear Tara! xo

  2. Thank you for your beautiful words on a hard-to-describe topic! Having dealt with anxiety and depression in family members, and then suddenly having my own anxiety attacks associated with chronic illness, I can attest that your description fits well that feeling of the storm clouds descending and then seeing the colors washed away. Thank you for sharing the encouragement that is to be found in speaking and hearing words of truth! The truth of Jesus is an anchor and a lifeline. Blessings to you!

  3. so beautiful, sad, and yet very hopeful! I haven’t conveyed very well that the brain injury I sustained flatlined my emotion; before that, like you I’d have described emotions as my super-power. I remember and a quarter century later I have vivid images of myself feeling deeply, laughing until tears ran down my face, being overcome by a friend’s loss or grief. These days I’d describe myself as not quite completely flat, but more “hard of feeling,” like someone whose hearing or vision even can be corrected only to about 5% of normal. I don’t even smile, which probably sounds strange. Maybe one reason my current work as an artist/designer excited and fulfills me is how extremely fully colorful it is! Thanks for posting and for listening.

Leave a Reply