T. S. Eliot, East Coker
Sometimes I am not sure how I feel until I try to articulate it for another. It is as though before that me and how I feel are floating in a nebula, undefined and indistinguishable. That is one of the ways I have understood the socialness of the human animal, I would guess. That is a preface to share a thing that like most things came to be through a sudden burst of words, in an attempt or two to be understood. A simpler string of words explaining this would be “I think I find out how I feel when I try to tell my friends how I feel.”
So be it that in the pits of our depression “the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.”