The Woman in the Well

If you want to know what having a depression is like, or if you have had one yourself. Read on.

 

 

 

THE WOMAN IN THE WELL

 

 

Suddenly there was no light. At the bottom of the well Delia was surrounded by total silence. Silence, where had they all gone? For the moment it wasn’t worth while to look for a way to get out of here, it would be better to wait until dawn penetrated the intense blackness. Only the present exists.

The dried-up well had always been there, but Delia wasn’t afraid of it, she simply never went near it. Whenever she had found herself inadvertently walking towards it, she quickly turned round and rejoined the rest, leaving it behind her.

 

She made herself as comfortable as possible, which wasn’t at all easy, as due to the lack of light she couldn’t orientate herself. It would be better to close her eyes. What for? To avoid the sight of so much darkness. But that wasn’t the answer. Delia opening her eyes tried to see something. It’s a good job she was all alone when she fell, imagine if one of the others had been with her and had fallen in with her, she wouldn’t feel alone now. But perhaps that was what she wanted. To feel alone! When was the last time she had been alone.

 

Delia, where’s my new shirt? Today I have to have lunch with one of the directors. Don’t tell me that you haven’t ironed it. You haven’t got time! What a disaster you are. There are other women who do far more than you, and their husbands don’t have to even ask or look for their clothes, they’re all laid out and ready to put on.

Then why haven’t you married one of those goddesses of the hearth? I’ll tell you why not. Because you, darling, are not so perfect yourself, and in order to help you feel superior I’m the perfect wife for you. I offer no competition. You already know that. Poor Delia, poor husband, poor everybody. Why do we, the weak, sensitive, neurotic women, have to get married to the lucky ones. I’m sure that your secretary ‘Miss Perfect’ lives up to her name. Why do I call her that? In all the years I have known her I’ve never seen her with a hair out of place, while mine is never as it should be " or as you think it should be. There was a time when I had the urge to grab ‘Miss P’ by the hair and pull it to see if it was real; I was convinced it was a wig. But no, ‘she’ had to have perfect hair. So go to your office, to your perfect world, and leave me to my imperfection.

 

“I can’t invite anyone home for dinner, so I’m taking them out for a meal.” The children looking at Delia with their eyes all innocent and ignorant of what was happening around them. For them it was easy, their father was going out to dinner.

 

“Mummy, you know I don’t like this kind of cheese, I prefer camembert, so I’m not going to eat this. No, no, don’t do anything else, I’ll get something in the café.”

 

“If you think I’m going to wear these trousers, you’re wrong. You have to understand that nobody wears these any more.”

 

Solitude creates strength. Delia couldn’t be more alone, far from the noise. Why do they have to make so much noise? Do this for me, do that, I don’t like this, I don’t like that.

 

She had tried to clutch hold of something or somebody, but there had been nothing and nobody present at the moment of her fall. Delia, seeing that there was no possibility of preventing it, simply relaxed and let herself fall, softly so as to avoid hurting herself unnecessarily in the fall. I’m not going to hurt myself more than is inevitable.

In the darkness, time elapsed without hours or minutes. What will they be doing now, what time is it, down here there is no now, today, yesterday, tomorrow. Here is here, and it’s always been the same.

Delia felt a bit uncomfortable in her new abode. Her legs. She had to do something so that they didn’t hurt so much. Maybe if I stand upright. There was little space and she felt more disorientated standing up than sitting down. I don’t like this at all, but as I don’t know how long I’ll be here, I must make myself comfortable. She moulded herself to her environment, organised her legs as best she could, and stared into the darkness.

 

She woke from a long sleep. She felt better on seeing a basket with food. How had it arrived there. Delia could recognise the child’s voice in the distance. It had been her. “Mummy, can you hear me?” Delia closed her eyes. I can take all the time I choose before answering. “Mummy, are you there?” If I’m not ‘there’, then where am I? This time the child’s voice was more persistent. I am in charge here, this is my well, and if I don’t want to answer then that’s your funeral!

The child tried once more to get in touch with her mother. “Mummy, are you all right? Answer me!”

Delia didn’t answer her. When the little girl had gone, the woman began to eat and drink the contents of the basket. With her stomach full it was easier to bear the uncomfortable place. Certainly, it would be better with a bit of light but what did it matter.

 

“Delia, I’ve brought you a newspaper.” What an idiot! Doesn’t he know it’s too dark here to read.

“But you’ll be able to read if you make an effort. I believe that your lack of decisiveness has brought you to this situation. How long are you going to be there?” What an idiot! As if I had chosen to be here. Put up with it. I’m going to be here a while longer.

Delia fell asleep again. She didn’t feel so uncomfortable now. She was getting used to it. If Solitude creates strength, Darkness makes her its accomplice.

 

During her waking hours Delia thought about how her terror towards the well increased when she was slipping slowly in the direction of the opening. Dumb, she didn’t know how to say the correct words, and meanwhile, in the sight of everyone, friends and family, she was becoming less visible. The invisible woman. Now you see her, now you don’t.

The thermos of coffee she emptied immediately and also the cakes that came with it. The arrival of the food had awoken thoughts about her actual situation. What is this, breakfast, lunch, or maybe just something to please me. What’s the time? What day is it? Is it worthwhile knowing. As I’m not going anywhere why do I want to know the time, or whether it’s day or night. Here nothing and nobody can touch me or hurt me, and so with these thoughts Delia closed here eyes to sleep. Since I’ve been here, all I do is sleep. Delia’s dreams were confused and tormented. She nearly always woke up sweating with her heart beating rapidly. If only I had someone I could talk to about what had happened. Dreams without form or sense. Before the event of the well Delia had dreamed about the darkness as something menacing, that had got close to her in the most innocent dreams. It was always the same. A party, lights, laughter, everyone having a good time, then suddenly Delia raised her head and saw a black curtain coming down on the scene. The bad thing was that she was the only one to see it. As soon as she tried to tell the others about the black curtain they laughed at her. Waking from one of these dreams Delia had told her husband, but he had shrugged his shoulder saying that it was only a dream. She was wrapped up in the darkness but they could still see her. What’s the matter with them? Why am I the only one who sees the curtain?

 

Several days had passed which for Delia was one long night. Sometimes she had a visitor.

“Hello, Delia, it’s me, Marta. How are you? It’s too hot, isn’t it? Know what, we’re going on a cruise this summer. A cruise would do you good, the sea air, not having to do anything. How exciting it’ll all be. At the moment I’m organising the things I’m going to take. And as you know there are dances and parties aboard and no one can go with last year’s clothes. So you see, I’ve found a gap between the shopping and other things to come and see you. What, you don’t want to talk. Of course. Don’t worry. What’s happening to you will soon pass. It must be the time of the year. Well, now I’m off . No. No. I won’t keep you any longer, I have to go, I’ve still got a lot of things to do. Bye, bye.” And she left.

Alone again, Delia made herself comfortable thinking, I hope there is a hurricane during the cruise. Or food poisoning.

Not all her visitors behaved in the same way. They sometimes interested themselves in her situation. “How are you today? Well, or as well as yesterday. You’ve got more colour in your face, have you been out? Oh, you haven’t been out. When are you coming out?”

When I feel like it. Neither before nor after.

“Do you like it there?”

No. No I don’t like it, but here I am. What do you want me to say?

If they began asking about her state they soon changed the conversation back to themselves. Unable to see Delia, they went away relieved. They had done their duty. After all, she was a friend. Ha! Ha! In the black familiarity Delia laughed bitterly. They had pushed her inside little by little, so slowly that nobody realized till it had already happened.

One day another of her so-called friends came round. “Delia, look who’s here.”

It was another ‘friend’.

“Hello, I didn’t know you were down there. I’ve been away.”

Oh, yes.

“We had to go and see the new house we’re having built in the mountains.”

I’m down a well, can’t you see, you who professed so much friendship, you don’t want to help me.

“Delia, don’t stare at me in that way. What’s the matter.”

What’s the matter with me! I’ll tell you what’s the matter with me. You and the rest. I’m fed up and tired. I don’t want to see you any more. The ‘friend’ seeing that she wasn’t going to get anything out of Delia, left. And don’t come back. Delia rubbed her arms and legs and when  she felt some warmth entering them, she relaxed and slept.

 

Where did the voices come from. Whose were they. Why do they have to speak like that. Can’t you hear me, I’m here trying to get some peace and quiet. But they didn’t take any notice or perhaps they didn’t hear her. A voice from the interior of a well isn’t heard very well. Silence. They have already gone.

 

Another basket with more food. What have they prepared for me this time. More coffee and a sandwich. It’s better than nothing. Her husband had brought it and said nothing more than, he had prepared it. Once Delia had finished the food she started to reflect. She had needed solitude and had looked for it, at the same time it was they who had pushed her towards it.

The voices again. This time Delia sat up to find out if it were possible to make out words. It was useless. The next time the basket is lowered I’m going to ask them what they’re talking about. For the first time since her fall down the well Delia waited impatiently for the basket.

 

Delia woke up on hearing the basket and tried to attract her daughter’s attention. But the child had gone. While she was eating Delia heard noises and shouts, but as they came from afar she didn’t hear them well. And then, “And if Mummy doesn’t want to.” Delia stayed still. She had no reason to think so, but she knew they were talking about her.

Why don’t they tell me what they are talking about if it’s something that concerns me? Delia discovered that they had to be near her by the intensity of their voices. If I can get near I’ll find out what it’s about. I must get out of here. It’s enough to try without thinking. It wasn’t all black in the well. From time to time a dim light entered but at least lately Delia hadn’t felt as deserted as she had at the beginning. That tiny light, that was no more than a break in the darkness, was a relief to Delia and animated her. She began to discern small things, but there was still not enough light to have an idea of the general layout of the well, nor what the way out was like.

It was her husband. He hardly, made any noise, leaves her the basket and the newspaper. What day is it? Aren’t you going to tell me? Her husband moves away. It’s as if I had stopped existing. Delia swallowed with extraordinary speed the contents of the basket. She can’t read the newspaper, there still isn’t enough light.

Delia started travelling round her well. In the distance voices, those voices that don’t say anything they only create noise. The first steps were not at all easy and several times she slipped to the bottom of the well again. I must get out of here, I have to know what they’re talking about, if it’s about me or someone else. Time and again Delia repeated these words. They were the impulse pushing her to get out. After some frustrated attempts she managed to plant her foot firmly and with a sturdy step started on the upward and outward journey. Is anyone there? There was no reply. Only the echo of her beating heart with every agonizing step. Delia was unable to stop even though she felt too weak to carry on. In spite of the effort she had only covered half the journey when she was sent more food. Look at me. Can’t you see I’m leaving the well. It was useless, the food was left and they had gone. There hadn’t been enough time to find out who had left it. The effort had cost her a lot, and as soon as she had finished eating she leant her head on an arm and slept.

 

She was awoken by the noise of voices and other things. She saw the light that pierced the darkness. It was no longer so dark. Delia tried to attract the attention of the owners of the voices, but it was in vain. With every step that led her to the exit she felt more determined in her desire to leave. When there were only a few steps left to leave, she fell again and slipped until she found something to grab hold of. For the first time in a while she felt like crying and tears of frustration didn’t take long in coming from her eyes. For quite a while she was crying and then she dried her eyes and blew her nose, breathed deeply and restarted her journey. The most surprising thing of all was that nobody had heard her fall again. Everything was as usual as if nothing had happened, but of course it had only happened to her, and as she was in the well how were they going to know of her intention to get out, and much less of her falling back down.

Delia realized that she was completely alone and although she shouted or cried out to someone, the probability was that they didn’t notice.

 

The light was not so bright but it lit up the way. Following the same route as before, step by step, but this time more cautiously, Delia slowly advanced. Apart from the light she also had as a guide those voices, those sounds. I don’t want to slip again so there will be no risk on my part. Slow, how slow getting out of the well is, when I think of how fast I fell to the bottom. Delia’s head ached and then her body, however, she persisted in wanting to know what they were talking about.

At last, Delia felt fresh air on her face. I need to breathe pure air, better to get out, than to stay in the well. The voices were clearer, Delia in her desire to know about their conversation, made one last effort to come out of the darkness.

“Hello, what’s going on here?” Nobody was surprised to see her. What’s up? Am I so insignificant such a small thing that none of you have been aware of my stay down the well? All the rest were playing cards, and then decided to see a film on a DVD.

Delia’s husband suggested switching off the lights to see the film better, but she pleaded, “Please don’t switch them off, leave them on. I think I’ve been living in the dark too much lately.”