Sometimes when I sit down to blog, I think of cheery, frivolous things I want to chat about. Planners, and pretty stationary, and fun things to do with kids, and recipes I like, or beauty products that make me happy.
That’s what I need to to talk about that day. Little things that make me happy, chats with virtual friends that make loneliness disappear, the pretty pictures on Instagram that make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Other days, what needs to be said is a much heavier topic. It’s things I need to get off my chest. It’s glimpses of life that are just as much my reality as those cute Instagram posts and inspirational quotes are.
You may have noticed by now that this blog is a bit all over the place. Maybe it lacks focus and flits around from one thing to the next. This is an accurate depiction of me. I’m a little bit all over the place, too.
And while some days I want to talk about pretty things, or funny comments my kid makes… sometimes I just need to pore my bleeding heart out on paper (ha, except not really) in hopes that maybe someone is out there listening, and needs to hear this, too.
I’m tired. I’m depressed. And most of all, I’m angry.
Why? I’m really not sure.
I don’t know. There it is, folks. You want to know what depression looks like for some of us?
This is it.
I’m content and peaceful, I want to spend all day dancing around the house, taking cozy naps, reading a good book for the hell of it, and maybe even coloring with my kid. I’m happy & I’m smiling, and I’m being a good mom, and I’m exercising like I’m supposed to, and playing with the dog.
It would take a really sharp eye to notice it.
It’s hidden quite well. And though the above listed are all very genuine, here’s how I know I’m depressed…
I’m exhausted but can’t sleep. When I sleep, I have bad dreams…often graphic and violent and full of turmoil…and somehow part of me almost enjoys them because it’s like an old toxic friend who I haven’t seen in a good long while.
I don’t want to answer my phone. I don’t want to leave my house except to walk outside when the weather is nice. I don’t want to look at any of my 7 email inboxes. I’m half considering non nonchalantly quitting several volunteer positions I’ve drained my life in to for the past year and a half. I just want to be left alone. I don’t want to deal with clerical childcare issues, and college administrations, or anyone really.
I just want to be left the fuck alone.
And on top of that is a fine thin layer of my dear old friend, anger.
Anger at what? I haven’t even decided yet.
So there it is. there’s the bitter truth. It’s 1:23 in the morning and I’m sitting here typing this (poorly) in to a word document so that later when I’m awake enough to speak coherent English I can proof it.
Sometimes, for some of us, this is what depression looks like.
I’ll sleepily be here to greet tomorrow with a thankful heart, none the less.
But I’m tired. And I’m angry. And I’m a tad bit heartbroken.
And that’s ok.
Cause sometimes it’s perfectly ok, to not be ok.
You hear that random person out there listening? You’re not alone, and I hope you’re still around to see the sun rise tomorrow.