I miss writing here. Forgive me for being quiet lately; I don’t feel like myself.
I’m playing a confusing game of cat and mouse, trading one pain for another. On one hand, I feel like I’m getting somewhere, but on the other, I feel like I’m going crazy.
So far, the migraine pain is down but my time spent crying is going way up. My drive to do creative things is better, but I’m having a really hard time actually doing these things. I can’t concentrate. I can’t rest.
I feel like I’m losing my community here at Daisies and Bruises. I don’t feel strong enough to advocate for anything. I feel like a shadow of my reflection, some foreign ghost.
Somehow, though, I feel closer to who I used to be before I became so depressed. Yes, I’m crying an average of three hours a day but I’m also thinking about a future for myself. A future beyond depression.
Is this recovery? Is this relapse? Or am I in the middle of a change that’s impossible to predict?
I feel like we can’t ever really predict where we’re headed at all in life. We can try, we can plan things and make goals and maybe even reach them, but actually getting to the finish line is an illusion.
It’s like those line-ups a Disneyland. You think you’re at the front after waiting for forty-five minutes but then some park employee leads you through the doors not to the ride itself but to a different room. In this room there’s another line of people who look oddly like the people in the room you just left, except they’re not the same people at all.
I keep forgetting how far I’ve come, how many rooms I’ve been in. I don’t know if I’m at the back of the line or at the front. I don’t know if I’m being scammed or if I’m almost at the ride that I’ve heard can be really good.
Life…what if it can be really good? What if the ride really is worth all this waiting?
I’m frustrated, I’m confused as hell, but I think I’m where I’m meant to be. I’m not comfortable but I don’t want to die right now. I want to live. I’m moving. Walking from room to room is better than just standing in one spot.
I wish I could tell you where we’re headed. I mean, I started this blog thinking that I could somehow eradicate stigma around depression and give people the hope to continue living. And maybe that’s what this blog is doing…but I never thought it would end up like this, with me questioning my sanity as I recover.
See what I mean about multiple rooms?
I feel like I need your help but I don’t know how. I don’t even know what I want. I’m not sure I should share my health struggles to an audience so big – especially when I feel so vulnerable – but I really like this little home we’ve created.
Thank you for being here with me. Thank you for waiting and for reading.
I’m really grateful for you. That’s all I know.