I’ve been fighting this battle for 8 years.
I’m so sick of people telling me that it’s going to get better. I’m sick of people telling me that it will all work out.
I’m sick of people trying to tell me to rely on God.
Praying, reading the Bible, and listening to God isn’t what’s going to get my bills paid. It’s not going to make me feel better.
Depression isn’t crying all the time. Depression is isolating yourself, your own brain convincing you that nobody cares, that nobody wants you around, etc.
Depression is wanting to do nothing but sleep all day.
Depression is feeling emotionally numb and socially detached.
Depression is mustering up the energy just to wake up, shower, and look decent.
I realized I know nothing about God. I’ve learned that there’s a fine line between acknowledging who he is, and actually having faith. I’ve realized that I just acknowledge his existence.
I know I should be doing these things. Just a few months ago I was on fire for this. I had given my testimony, started this blog, and reading. However, I was reading something I didn’t fully understand.
I saw my therapist today for the first time in two months and I’ve made the decision to go back onto anti depressants. However, just because I am on medication DOES NOT mean that I am not allowed to have a bad day.
Just because I have a bad day DOES NOT mean that I am not taking my medication. I want to make that perfectly clear.
I want to be a better daughter. A better friend. A better Christian. One that actually has faith and not just acknowledges that God sent his one and only son down on earth to be crucified for all of mankind.
I don’t want to fight with my Dad all the time. I want to be useful for something. I don’t want to have to keep relying on the bottle to help make me feel better temporarily.
But I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to live, but I don’t want to die either. If something happened. If I get into a car accident on my way home one night and died before the paramedics got there, I wouldn’t care. But I’m not going to commit suicide. I don’t have suicidal thoughts. I refuse to put my parents through that.
I didn’t ask to be born, but I was. And that I do have to deal with. I have to deal with my own existence. I shouldn’t have to “deal with my own existence” I should want to live.
I don’t have any other vices left. Things that used to make me happy, no longer make me happy.
I don’t want to play my piano. I don’t want to read. I don’t want to write. I don’t want to talk to my family (sorry Mom, Granny, Dad, and Grandma. It’s not you).
Depression is a deep well that you have to climb yourself out of. However, right now, I can’t climb out.
Depression is walking in the middle of an Earthquake, but you’re slipping through the cracks and you have nothing to hold on to. My ground started out unsteady, but it’s turning into a full sized earthquake that I can’t stop.
The only person I can trust right now is my sponsor, and that alone was a hard thing to do.