Reflections 4: And I Feel Fine

One day, around April I think, I was in a bad way. I knew that things were very wrong at the soul level and I was seemingly incapacitated to do anything about it. When I stepped forward in an especially moving church service, two friends who I had grown up with- but didn't spend time with anymore- stepped forward, prayed vigorously for me, saw my desperation laid bare. One offered coffee. I took him up with immediacy and intent. He had dealt with depression too, worse than mine, but was now doing better, on top of the world in his social and spiritual life. We talked out my situation for a long time. He said he had great hope for me, having his own life as reference. I bared my fear of meaningful relationship, that I might drag down someone who counted on me. He said he understood, and told me to hope.
I was too realistic to believe that one church service and a good talk would fix everything, so I hoped that our conversation wouldn't be the last.
But it was.
Perhaps my expectations of relationship got re-arranged when i was abroad. I came to believe that they should last, be supportive, be healing. I guess that maybe my north American life could never be this way. It was too much to expect?
I pulled up my bootstraps for a while. Went to the church where something good had happened, but slowly, my hopes for betterment faded and life went on with its dips and swings. Maybe never as deep again, or else I just became adapted to it, a living with the numbness.