A Monster in My Head

You know how a young child can catch you off guard by saying something quite profound so innocently and unintentionally that you can't help but think about it for days and days.

I was putting Bridge to bed one night last week. As usual, he was trying to talk me into letting him sleep with daddy and mommy. For the last year or so, he has had a terrible time sleeping because of bad dreams and "dong dongs" which his way of saying imaginary noises. He has come down the stairs many nights completely panicked, only able to cry in spurts because the terror has stolen his voice.

I am very sympathetic to this issue, because I remember how vivid my imagination was as a child. I often laid in bed in complete terror, heart pounding in my ears, as I waited for the impending doom to overtake me.

So, this night as I was putting him in bed, I took the time to ask Bridge why he was so scared. He look straight in my eyes with all the weight of 100 restless nights in his stare and said, "Mommy, there's a monster in my head."

As I have matured, I have learned that the power of my imagination is a great gift, even though it affected me so negatively in my childhood. I have also learned that it still affects me in some ways that I can pinpoint and in some ways that I am not even aware of yet.

I suffer from depression. I can't tell you why or where it comes from or even how it behaves. It controls me and affects my family in ways that have yet to be seen. I am grateful for zoloft, my medicine that keeps the edge off - some days I even feel "normal" almost all day. But even with meds, I still wrestle critically with myself over questions that my rational mind is able to ask, "what is wrong with you?, can't you snap out of it?, why are you so lazy?, you have everything you could possibly want, why can't you just be happy?"

For the first time in my life, because of my sons fears, I have begun to consider the possibility that the depression is a sideaffect of the imagination that I have been blessed with. My imagination calls things into being, it doesn't let me sleep, it is a never ending supply of possibilities and contradictions. It is relentless.

Bridge said it, "There is a monster in my head." That is how it feels. It is the thorn in my side. I may never shake him out this side of eternity.

Even still, I am grateful for my imagination, and as for the monster; he makes me look forward to an eternity with my savior.