Some might say that I’m a serial depressionist.
I go down, sometimes deeper and for longer periods than others, but thankfully always manage to find my way back to functionality again. Over the years I’ve gone from simply tolerating depression to respecting its sober mystery.
Almost always my depression is a signal that I’m not feeling something that wants to be felt or avoiding shifting something in my life that isn’t working.
I’ve also discovered depression is linked to my hormones. When I’m pms-ing, for example, I can go seriously subterranean.
This link has led me to explore the connection between my sexuality and depression, specifically my desire.
When I’m deeply depressed, for example, I have no desire to live.
Fortunately, nowadays I am able to meet my depression before I hit rock bottom.
When my life and/or the world starts to suck and I feel helpless to change things, I know it’s time for a dose of Vitamin D(esire).
Just like sunshine helps vitamin D deficiency, feeling my desire alleviates my depression. In other words, depression is a state of desire-deficiency.
I tend to get depressed in relationships because over time my desire feels more and more harnessed. In part because I’m a practical desirer and tend to only have desires that will fit in with the people around me. And partly because I just plain forget to desire.
But the directional force of Creation cannot be stopped or limited by what I think is possible. It can only be suppressed and stored away (in my female sexual hormones) until I’m ready to feel my desire fully and be moved by its force.
Larger than life emotions that come with perimenopause are the energy in motion of our pent up, unfelt, unlived desires. I no longer disregard these mood swings, simply blaming them on hormones, but rather thank my hormones for keeping my desires, along with the necessary energy to move them into manifestation.
Reframing my perimenopausal mood swings into desire downloads not only helps me shift out of depression, feeling and expressing my desire also opens intimate connection with my man.
To my surprise, he LOVES when I speak my secret kept desires-even if they don’t make sense-even if they don’t include sex or him-even if they’re impractical and God forbid, expensive.
“I want to rent a little apartment in New York City and go to film school.”
“I want to write a fairy tale about the Goddess.”
As I speak each desire, allowing it to be possible in this moment, my man’s eyes light up.
“Are you actually turned on?” I ask him and he nods, smiling.
Playing along, I take off pieces of clothing with each desire.
“I want to write a children’s book on masturbation.”
“I want to start women’s sexual pleasure groups all over the country.”
The electricity of desire buzzes through me, him and the space around us. There’s an expansiveness, an excitement in the air. We are suddenly twenty again when anything is possible.
“I want to scuba dive with sea horses.”
“I want to levitate.”
“You are so sexy,” my man says, taking me in his arms and tangoing me to the bed.
Naked, with tears in my eyes, I ask him, “Why haven’t you ever listened?”
“Because,” he says, “you never told me.”