I have thought about writing this post for quite some time and every single time that I convince myself to sit down and get started, the cursor just blinks and blinks and blinks and blinks. So, here we go:
On a good day, my anxiety dictates only small facets of my life and I don’t entirely hate it. My anxiety is like that old, warm blanket with all the holes that is just what I need after a long day. The constant checking of the locks before I lay down to ward off intruders. The triple check of the crawl space where the broiler is to make sure there isn’t a serial killer laying in wait for me while I was away at work. The 4 time check to make sure my son is breathing before I allow myself to rest. The list goes on and grows more ridiculous but it puts the chatter in my mind at ease and I can relax.
My depression, though, is not comforting. I don’t like it. And it is painful. Depression pairs up with my usually harmless anxiety and morphs me into a version of myself that I am afraid of. It tells me that am nothing, I will never be anything, and that life is worthless. It tells me that I am an awful mother. I am stupid. I am ugly. I have nothing and I don’t deserve happiness. My depression fills my head like a dark fog and I can’t see 3 ft in front of myself. My depression is convincing and sly. When I am dealing with a depression slump, I cry, scream, cry, scream, cry, and I beg God to help me understand what I am supposed to do to get better. To be better. I can’t go out, leave my house, get off of my couch, or fathom doing anything but draining myself into TV and mind numbing scrolling. I steer clear of friends because I am deathly ashamed and honestly, as I am writing this, I am not even sure I will post it.
When I feel better, either the next day or the next week, I feel like I am coming out of a drunk stupor. Hung over, weak, confused.
I am chasing after happiness and making an effort to get better. I don’t want depression and anxiety to run my life and steer my feelings. How am I going to change it? Day by day by day by day. One single day at a time I am going to fight against depression, seek help of a therapist, and work my way through understanding what this evil thing is. One foot in front of the other; one breath at a time. I don’t have an answer at the end of this and it took a lot of courage, 2 glasses of wine, and pep talk to write this. No, I don’t want anyone to pat me on the back or tell me it will be ok because I understand it may not be or it may take me fighting tooth and nail for it to be. But, I am going to try because we deserve a good life.