You probably wouldn’t have even noticed if you saw me last week.
Maybe we bumped shoulders. Maybe we made eye contact. I probably smiled. You probably smiled. We both kept walking.
But you wouldn’t have known-
I felt like my body weighed a thousand pounds.
I felt so, so tired.
I kept thinking about positive things over and over and over, but it wasn’t sparking even a hint of authentic feeling.
My world felt black and white, even though I know it’s color. I saw color. I felt black and white.
Nothing in my life or my world changed; it’s me.
I felt like maybe it would be better to not be here, maybe there would be rest and relief then.
Maybe it would help if I wasn’t such a hard person to care about.
I forgot that it will pass. even with constant reminders.
My mind was flooded with everything I lack; inundated with my inadequacies.
The mistakes I have made.
The things I haven’t finished.
The future seemed like it wasn’t for me.
I didn’t want to talk to my friends.
I didn’t feel excited anymore.
I saw what needed to be done but I couldn’t move.
Extra stress made me cry.
I felt like I couldn’t solve problems.
That I shouldn’t be a leader or an example for anyone.
I was not sure that I didn’t want to succumb to the wave.
Words sounded like empty noise.
Meaningful intentions felt empty and weightless.
My throat felt full.
I wasn’t present.
Where did this come from?
Did I miss the signs that this was headed my way?
Was I going to feel better soon?
Why couldn’t I just pull through?
Was I going to feel again?
Will things matter like they did hours before?
Welcome to my week last week.
I knew it was coming.
For me, it creeps in like a toddler taking their first few steps.
A few here, a few there, and then–we’re off and walking around like a destructive freight train speeding down a winding track in the middle of the darkest night.
At some point it has to stop, right?
And for me, it does—-eventually.
But it’s a fight.
A ferocious, misunderstood, underestimated, battle.
One that I know I need to push back -but I get too tired to rise against it.
It comes in waves.
It ebbs. It flows. It retracts. It comes again.
It comes whether or not I am reading enough, praying often enough, studying regularly enough, practicing my principles enough, laughing enough, reading positive quotes enough, or fueling my life with enough truth and healthy choices.
It just is.
I woke up today and I felt lighter on my feet.
I had thoughts that centered on today and next week. I haven’t counted how long it will be before I can lay back down again and I have more patience this morning. I smiled when my son snorted along with George while watching Peppa Pig.
I knew a few weeks ago that I needed to go to a meeting to talk. To listen. To just be. To cry. To process some things. I had more stressors than usual and was needed by more people for more things than I could manage successfully. After being knocked in the face unexpectedly with the passing of Jarrid Wilson, my world dimmed and there I was.
And now, here I am.
Just like that.
I am learning to go with the flow of things. To reach out and talk about how I am feeling-or not feeling at all. I am still weighing the pros and cons for me and my relationship medication. I experience nasty, vivid, negative side effects from prescribed antidepressants, and can’t seem to find one that my brain is okay with. they can be abused and addictive, and that is not something I am willing to walk toward unless it becomes absolutely necessary.
So for me, in my case, personally- I am better off, for now, to eat healthy, plant-based food, get enough sleep, say NO to things I shouldn’t take on, to stay grounded and thankful, to work out consistently, and to pay attention to what my brain is telling me- and also to take it seriously.
Also, my support system is crucial. More obviously crucial when I am walking through a dark time. I didn’t want people to notice. I wanted to be left all alone. And despite wanting to be left alone, I noticed every single person who didn’t care or notice that I was not okay. The ones who did notice, I gently pushed away. Not because I didn’t appreciate or need their concern, but because I feel like a ridiculous, burdensome, adult human. During these waves, though, it is the ones who DO reach out to extend their concern, who end up helping me pull through, back to the surface and back to my feet again.
So I make sure I tell them how much they mean and how critical their extension of love is for me, even if it doesn’t feel that way sometimes.
I am a hardish person to love, but it doesn’t make me less worthy of love.
I am thankful to be here.
I am grateful for my friends, my husband, and my mother in law.
I am not ashamed of having a rough time.
I am not embarrassed to say that I struggle with anxiety and depression, or that I haven’t found the perfect, dreamy regimen. I have found what works for me right now, and I have a support system that I am not afraid to reach out to.
A friend of mine reminded me that I don’t have to do this on my own. I don’t have to pull myself up by my bootstraps to scrape by.
And I don’t.
I won’t.
I have options.
I would like to urge anyone out there reading to do whatever you have to do to get through the waves when they come.
If that means prescribed medication, therapy, counseling, checking into a facility, vitamins, diet adjustments, or finding a creative outlet of some kind- do that.
Reach out. Tell people how you’re feeling and what you need.
Please do.
Figure out something that will help you get through.
I am pretty sure there is no way around it all completely, but there are ways that make the dark waves more manageable.
Please find what that looks like for you.
And please know that there are people out here who want you to live, who understand, and who pray that you keep going and keep fighting. The hard days will lift. There is no shame in having them.
The world needs your light and the unique things that you offer.
Side note:
Something that helps me is reading what Jeremiah wrote in Lamentations. Or reading the book of Job, or other books of the bible where real people were struggling and suffering from real, raw, emotion, hardship, anxiety, and depression.
God had something for them to do-he had purpose for them and they still struggled and suffered. It helps me to remember that this isn’t a problem of lacking faith or having a flimsy relationship with God. For me, this is about hanging on, and believing that I can and will make some kind of impact here in this world, in spite of the fact that my mind can be a shit show.
Keep going.