The Bewitching Hour

At first I was gonna put this on my blog.  But then I thought:  Why not put it here?  It’s as though one has been searching for their audience all their life and finally found it!  Wow.  That’s a mouthful.

Some may wonder if there is such a thing as the Bewitching Hour.  And I’m gonna step in here and say it does exist.  How do I know it exists?  Through my experience with my and of my illness.  The only time I wasn’t suicidal when I was deeply depressed was the months after Andrew’s birth.  I had fallen to such unfathamoble (damn!  i need spellcheck!  I already know it’s wrong.)

For some reason, at that time, suicide was off the radar for me.  And it’s kind of a mystery to me, because, god knows I get suicidal very easily, given the proper conditions.  I was on the couch for months, however, and time seemed to drag on endlessly.  It felt like a slow death.  But for some reason, every day, at 4pm, my Depression would miraculously lift.  And I breathed in moments of relief.  I will never forget that hour.

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