Thoughts from "Eat, Pray, Love"

Wise and entertaining words from a woman who travels the world and battles with depression and loneliness...or as she says, Depression and Loneliness. I love how she personifies these feelings. The concept is well-received by a therapist who works with many a tattered soul and is a wounded healer herself. Elizabeth Gilbert captures well how depression and such overwhelming feelings can sneak up on us, so unexpected, settle in and take over before we even realize their presence. Yikes. It appears a little silly to think of feelings as people, but, it gives voice to the power they can hold over an individual's, and in fact many individuals', lives. This is hopefully also a reminder that given the right circumstances and tools to combat such "persons", we can boot them out the door of our lives forever or perhaps until they come knocking and barging down the door again.

Depression and Loneliness track me down after about ten days in Italy. I am walking through the Villa Bourghese one evening after a happy day spent in school, and the sun is setting gold over St. Peter's Basilica. I am feeling contented in this romantic scene, even if I am all by myself, while everyone else in the park is either fondling a lover or playing with a laughing child. But I stop to lean against a balustrade and watch the sunset, and I get to thinking a little too much, and then my thinking turns to brooding, and that's when they catch up with me.

They come upon me all silent and menacing like Pinkerton Detectives and they flank me--Depression on my left, Loneliness on my right. They don't need to show me their badges. I know these guys very well. We've been playing a cat-and-mouse game for years now. Though I admit that I am surprised to meet them in this elegant Italian garden at dusk. This is no place they belong. I say to them, "How did you find me here? Who told you I had come to Rome?" Depression, always the wise guy, says, "What--you're not happy to see us?" "Go away," I tell him. Loneliness, the more sensitive cop, says, "I'm sorry, ma'am. But I might have to tail you the whole time you're traveling. It's my assignment." "I'd really rather you didn't," I tell him, and he shrugs almost apologetically, but only moves closer.

Then they frisk me. They empty my pockets of any joy I had been carrying there. Depression even confiscates my identity; but he always does that. Then Loneliness starts interrogating me, which I dread because it always goes on for hours. He's polite but relentless, and he always trips me up eventually. He asks if I have any reason to be happy that I know of. He asks why I am all by myself tonight, yet again.

I walk back home, hoping to shake them, but they keep following me, these two goons. Depression has a firm hand on my shoulder and Loneliness harangues me with his interrogation. I don't even bother eating dinner; I don't want them watching me. I don't want to let them up the stairs to my apartment, either, but I know Depression, and he's got a billy club, so there's no stopping him from coming in if he decides that he wants to.

"It's not fair for you to come here," I tell Depression. "I paid you off already. I served my time back in New York." But he just gives me that dark smile, settles into my favorite chair, puts his feet on my table and lights a cigar, filling the place with his awful smoke. Loneliness watches and sighs, then climbs into my bed and pulls the covers over himself, fully dressed, shoes and all. He's going to make me sleep with him again tonight, I just know it.

When you're lost in the woods, it sometimes takes you a while to realize that you are lost. For the longest time, you can convince yourself that you've just wandered a few feet off the path, that you'll find your way back to the trailhead any moment now. Then night falls again and again, and you still have no idea where you are, and it's time to admit that you have bewildered yourself so far off the path that you don't even know from which direction the sun rises anymore.