I’ve been struggling lately.
Depression is nothing new to me. It’s been a battle I’ve fought for years. My first time in therapy was when I was in grade school. I’ve been on anti-depressants + anxiety medications, and seen other therapists, on and off since then.
For the last few years I’ve remained pretty steady. Until a few weeks ago.
The first sign should have been my insomnia. I would lay in bed until 3,4,5am worrying about everything. I would take multiple doses of melatonin and still not sleep. Finally started sleeping through the night with my sleeping pills.
I chalked it up as normal because I was “doing my best thinking” at night.
Then I started to lose my drive. Things that used to excite me seemed blah. I didn’t have an adventurous spirit, I didn’t have a drive to get my work done and I didn’t pursue quality time with my fiance.
I chalked it up as normal because I was exhausted from my busy schedule.
Then I started crying on a regular basis. Emotions would come from left field and overtake my entire body. I’d feel helpless, numb and alone.
I chalked it up as being emotional because I was pms-ing.
This week I could barely get out of bed. I didn’t want to speak. I didn’t want to feel. I didn’t want to be awake because being awake meant I had to deal with the let downs. With the stress. With the pain. With the struggles.
I chalked this up as being depressed.
Depression is hard, it can hit fast and hit hard just when you least expect it. It camouflages itself as so many other things. It’s so easy to ignore the flags and chalk it up nothing. I have for weeks and I know better. I know what my body does and where my mind drifts, but I wanted so badly to think that I had beat depression and it sure as hell wasn’t knocking back at my door.
But that’s the thing, depression isn’t something we can just beat and it disappears. We have to treat it every time it comes around. So I’m going to do just that.
And my first step is saying out loud that I’m not okay, but that’s okay.