Awhile ago, there was a discussion about weather in the dressing room:
Person A: “It’s starting to warm up today.”
Person B: “Yeah, but it’s just going to be Winter again next year.”
(I actually wasn’t there for the conversation, so you’ll just have to believe me when I say it went down something like that.) I’m typically a “Person A.” I tend to focus on the good, I can find a positive lesson in most anything, and I’m usually optimistic.
But sometimes I’m a “Person B.” Like right now. I’m in the middle of some deep depression. (And, before you read any further, I am safe, I don’t need anything from you or myself other than time and love.) I have been here before. When I have a healthy mind, I know that it’s all ok. But when my mind is playing tricks on me, like it is right now, I wonder what’s the point? Not in an “I’m going to end my life” sort of way, but in an “Oh my gosh I work so hard on my depression and anxiety and I keep ending up here” sort of way. What’s the point of working so hard if I’m going to end up here again?
…
I’m a choose happy, choose joy, choose love girl. I like this about myself. Sure, yucky stuff happens all of the time, but the way I respond to it is what really matters. And, most days, it really is that easy for me. And I believe that most days it’s that easy for you, too. Right now is not “most days” for me, nor for any of us. This pandemic is absolutely affecting my mental state. My heart is broken for all that is lost.
…
This is where I’m at right now. I really effing hate it, but it’s happened enough that I know better than to fake it ’til I make it. I have a slew of coping mechanisms that I employ every single day. They usually work! When they don’t, I eventually allow myself to just feel it and not fight it. This goes against my instincts because when I am hurting I want it to stop as soon as possible. But trying to make it stop isn’t honoring my truth.
The truth is I’ve been in bed most days. I sleep most of the day and most of the night. I can hardly concentrate. It took me five minutes to write that last sentence. I don’t want to talk to anyone, even the people I love the most. I am not motivated to run a non-profit or seek out income.
The truth is that I’m safe, but I am not ok. But, history tells me that I will be ok again. So, I guess I am choosing love. I’m choosing to love myself through the depths when it would be so easy to hate myself through it instead. Been there, done that. Love is always better than hate.
…
I am not ashamed of my depression and anxiety, nor am I empowered by it. It just is. I only share because I know that there are so many of us out there that have a challenging time with this. It’s difficult all of the time, but especially now. I want you to know that you are not alone. Our mental health struggles do not define us, but they do inform us. Let’s honor that. Let’s take the information we’ve been given and adjust. I’ve increased my meds and increased how often I see my therapist. I have a couple of great books that I’m reading. I’m wearing my comfy socks and my comfy robe. And that’s about it right now.
I’m going to sit here in this rain. It will eventually move on and there will be sunshine again. And the rain will come back, but then so will the sun. I’ll adjust every single time.