I hate to whine and make people listen to my problems. You know its bad when I can’t find an appropriate level of positivity to hold up a conversation. I have to admit that even I, with ability to always find the silver lining and snap myself out of a funk within a day or two, have hit a great big wall that’s making it hard to get out of bed.
Feeling that you are one heartbeat away from failing is a hard feeling to fight. You start at the top of this spiral where confidence is high and your determination is strong. Then with each road block your confidence and determination are slowly chipped away at. When one decreases the other falls with it. Then what fills up the space that is left is fear and hopelessness. Once the equilibrium is more fear/hopelessness than confidence/determination, its hard to get out of bed and do anything to help yourself out of the hole.
This my friends is depression at its finest. We all get there at some point in our lives, some more intensely than others, but if you’ve ever had a day it felt better to stay in bed with the blinds closed sleeping and having hours long marathons of tv shows you don’t even care about, than get up, take a shower, and do even the slightest thing to make the situation better, you know what I’m talking about.
I meant to start this post days ago, but instead wallowed, watched A LOT of netflix, and considered buying a plane ticket home. Of course the concept of living with my parents and abandoning all my things was enough of a deterrent, so now, days later, or like a week, I have almost come to terms with where I’m at and begun making a new plan.
How did I get here? Well it all started with the death of Skittles. Not having a car has made getting a job hard, which led me in an act of desperation to buy a car at a car auction with half of my remaining savings. The car is, and I’m being nice when I say this, a dirty whore bitch with more problems than I can even consider.
Hind sight is 20/20 and mine is crystal clear. I know exactly what I would do to not have ended up here, but none the less, here I am and I can either continue to wallow until I am left with no choices at all, or rebuild. Its still hard and I’m still struggling, and part of me wants to cry pretty much every second of the day, but life doesn’t work that way. Sometimes you have to get off your privileged high horse and take a very large bite of reality, knowing that in the end it will make you a better, stronger person.
Saying this out loud helps. I repeat it to myself constantly. There is always someone who has it worse off than you do. I am not in a good place necessarily, but I have all my basic needs met and still enough audacity to have some self-pity. I’m sure in the months to come it will continue to be hard and I’ll still have days that I want to swallow a handful of vicodin. However, I am blessed with a vast support group of friends and family, who, even from thousands of miles away for the most part, still manage to make me feel loved and reassured. THAT is what keeps me going, THAT is how I get out of bed everyday, and no matter how bad things get, I will forever be thankful for those people.
Side note: as I was writing this it reminded me of another blog I had read a while back. The entire things is great, she’s freaking hilarious, until the last post and I haven’t seen anything new since *sadface* Check it out – Adventures in Depression
adventuresoftheprettyreckless 