Yes, I get that it hurts you, your family and your friends. But, I’m not talking about the handbook version of depression where a depressed person is: “someone who is very, very sad.” I’m talking about the physical pain, the mental anguish and, the days where you wish everything would stop hurting.
Today is one of those days, and it’s precluded by one of those months. I just messaged my husband “I love you. And I’m sorry.” And all I could think about after that text was, that would be an ok way to say goodbye. Short and sweet.
Guys, this has been a hard time in my life.
Depression is like a festering wound that you can feel but you can’t see. It’s always there, just right below the surface. You can’t cut it out, and meds don’t make it go away. People around you can’t see the wound and by that, you have just become the hypochondriac of a community who can’t see your pain or understand it.
I think that people battling with depression are some of the strongest humans. When every molecule of their being is telling them its time to quit, they just keep going. Sure we lose some along the way. But compared to mentally healthy people, we are amazing at getting back up again to fight another day. Every day is a choice for people with bad depression.
I set my alarm for every morning at 7 AM as habits are good for people like me. Each time I wake to that sound, I think here we go again, and I wonder if and when the day will come that, that alarm won’t go off.
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I am Murphy’s law in action (if you doubt that, ask my husband). I like to say I'm a classy lady when in reality I put on red lipstick and run around in my pajamas. I’m a parent to a teen, wife to an exceptional husband and dog mom to two unruly doods (Rumple and Rosie). I try to swear less, sometimes this cannot be avoided, and captain cuss word shows up (this usually occurs directly after Murphy's law has kicked in, it's a vicious circle).
