After I dropped my children off at school, I came home and sat still as the flurry of thoughts swirled around inside my head. Before long, I found myself talking into my voice notes app about the things I was feeling and what I was thinking about. My mental health. My physical health. My children. Finding us a home. Grieving. The future…
It’s so strange to me how I can be so blessed and yet still feel so incapable of creating a life where I am healthy, stable and even happy sometimes. I think about how my children are my biggest motivation. They are the reason I get up in the morning and do my best to make a better life and a better future for us.
Right now, I don’t know if I love myself enough to try for me. And I know that’s not a good thing. But at this point, it’s my truth. I can’t deny it. I can’t hide it. Maybe that’s why I can’t have the kind of love in my life that I claim to want. How can I accept someone else’s love if I can’t even accept my own? And then there’s the whole “I don’t deserve this kind of love until I have accomplished X,Y & Z”. Part of me knows that isn’t true, but part of me still holds a belief that it’s true for me.
So much of my inner dialogue is “I can’t give up yet”. So I think to myself, “If now is not the appropriate time to give up, when is?”. It makes me feel like defeat is inevitable. Like I’m just biding my time until it’s reasonable to end it all. I pray that in time, something will work. Something will change. Something will improve. And over time, I will find more strength and purpose in my struggle.
Lately, my antidepressants don’t seem to be working as well. Maybe it has something to do with the season changing and the weather getting colder? I’m not sure. Anyway, it concerns me. I think about talking to my doctor about it. Do I need to up my dosage? I really don’t want to. This is why it took me so long to get treated in the first place. I never wanted to be dependent on drugs. I feel stuck. Do I not say anything and just keep pushing, hoping things will change on their own? Or do I speak up and risk being disappointed by whatever answer is given to me. Not to mention adding another trip to the doctor into my schedule and budget.
I wish I had just one person in my life who understood what I was dealing with. Even with the love and support I am surrounded by, I still feel so alone. Praying helps. Being with family and friends helps. Therapy helps. But nothing takes it away. It’s almost like the more I find things to help keep it at bay, the bigger it becomes. My depression is very jealous. It will not be eclipsed by my happiness. That’s how it feels. At least how it’s been feeling over the last month or so.
Everything feels so uncertain. So big. And I feel so small. I am overwhelmed. I am putting one foot in front of the other. Trying to stay focused on the things that matter the most. It’s hard. And I don’t feel like there’s anyone I can talk to about it. I’m supposed to be talking to my therapist about these kinds of things. But for some reason, I don’t want to say anything to her either.
I don’t know why.
Maybe I will text her today…
Anyway, I do feel a bit better after getting all of this out of my head. I’m not sure why I decided to blog about this instead of keeping it private. Maybe it will help someone? If you read this and it helps you in anyway, please let me know. Comment, or let me know privately. It would really help.