pj Holliday

Weeping may tarry for the night, But joy comes in the morning.

Psalm 30:5

The morning holds much power for those suffering with mental illness. I have struggled from season to season with anxiety, depression, and panic attacks for years. These experiences consume my whole life when they come. My body suffers, my family suffers. It’s all consuming and difficult to overrule thoughts which produce these symptoms. As a new mother, this has been a particularly difficult time for my mental well-being, but what is always constant is how I have peace in the morning. The days and nights may be challenging to endure, but at first light, I am always free.

When I am in a season of depression, I long for sleep. Not only due to physical weakness, but I long to free my mind from itself by closing my eyes a few hours. Sleep always relieves pain and I am much better after a nap. But I’ve wondered why this is, specifically, a much better time of day for those suffering with mental illness. I’ve realized that as I am first awake, I am wholly present, and I believe this is the definition of peace. It is not thinking of things too far in the future or too far in the past, but living in full awareness of the present moment I exist in. As I’ve been considering this, I wondered if morning, metaphorically speaking, could last all day. If I could take the concept of morning with me throughout every other hour I am given.

As I first wake up, I am fully present in the details of my room; the backdrop of air conditioning, sunlight slipping through the slender gaps in the blinds, my son’s fingers tangled in my hair. There is nothing else but this in the morning. So, I’ve been practicing. As my mind is bombarded with fear, worry or sadness, I start to notice the space around me. Having a son makes it even easier to be present as he is always capturing my attention. I redirect my thoughts and force myself to notice how happy it makes me to give him a bottle, watch him cross his feet and rub my arm as he drinks. It was not easy at first to be present, as I had many inner arguments. I took captive each fear by the root repeatedly, for days, and I found this so challenging, but depression and anxiety began to lose power the more I worked on being totally in the moment.

There are things we must worry about to be responsible, but those things do not need to consume us. If there is nothing pending or in need of immediate attention, I no longer find it in the forefront of my mind and allow the joy of morning, the present, to continue to infiltrate the rest of my day. The morning light is better than any other, and I am grateful for this understanding. As I meditate on the words of the Psalmist, I am empowered to look to hope at the beginning of the day and recreate an atmosphere of joy in what remains.

Everything in the Morning

The grass bends with dewy pearls.

The sun’s pastel light

against frothy summer clouds,

wakes in my room.

My breath against my baby

returns from his cheek to my mouth.

All of yesterday is forgotten.

Anxiety dissolves in a deep pitch,

the backs of my eyelids closing.

I hear nothing in the morning,

nothing of yesterday’s thoughts.

I am present in the room.

I am slow as light

on its way to the window.