Reality Bites, Depression my old friend
Think happy, be happy.
If only it was that simple.
It’s now almost 84 days since I had my last antidepressant, and the thoughts that maybe I’m not as strong as I believed are creeping in.
There is a shocking lack of assistance for those with depression once you seem to be in recovery, and whilst I understand that funding is disgustingly low, being cast out and expected to manage this on my own is terrifying and honestly, I wonder if it would be easier to let the dark thoughts seep back in and take over.
Over the past 7 years I forgot how to function in so many ways, I still don’t know how to function in some situations and I have no idea how to go about relearning how.
As we grow up, our ability to cope with and handle ourselves in certain situations comes about via trial and error, peer influences and through education but as an adult, I should know these things. I do know them, I just no longer know how to actually get my thoughts in to actions.
Somewhere along the way I’ve lost the parts than made me…me.
It’s exciting to a degree, I’m in a sense a blank canvas with the ability to start over. But I no longer feel I have a base on which to establish who I am. Am I confident, outgoing, strong willed and passionate or am I this meek and lost person who is stumbling through life trying to find some place where I belong?
I fear I’m the latter, I don’t want to be, she makes me mourn for who I was.
It’s evident I’m struggling this week, there’s a whole host of reasons as to why, some significant, some ridiculously inconsequential that I shouldn’t even waste my energy on them
I’m lucky I got 12 weeks in before I started to feel like maybe I wasn’t as free from depression as I thought. I knew there would be periods like this. I knew I would doubt myself and want a prescription for drugs which numbed me from many of these thoughts, but I’m hopeful that this is a blip. A day or two of vacillation before I perk up again.
I hope so, I’ve so enjoyed these past 12 weeks, the feeling of being alive again is a wondrous thing. But the reality is that after so many years of severe depression I’m unlikely to ever be free of it completely, and I’m truly okay with that, if only I could figure out how to manage these days of doubt without setting me back months of progress.