I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to live a ‘normal’ life whilst dealing with depression. Yet, here I am. Working 50+ hours a week. Eating properly. Going to the gym. Making travel plans. Trying to make new friends. Days go by where I think, wow! Maybe I’ve finally recovered! And then it hits me. It hits me in a way that I’ve never felt depression before. As if I’m letting my depression down by functioning. It is engulfing. Rather than feeling stronger, for functing with depression, I feel weak for trying to move on with my life. Then, the overwhelming waves of terrifying thoughts seep back into my brain and force themselves out again through floods of tears. Sometimes, I wonder, why I ever pushed myself to start living again when everything else is pulling me back to the world of utter despair and darkness.
“That is all I want in life: for this pain to seem purposeful.”
― Elizabeth Wurtzel,
I stumbled across this quote this afternoon and I can relate to it so much. Maybe, if I could see a light, or an end, or something up in the distance that made sense, then maybe this constant struggle would be tolerable. If I knew it would do me some good, somewhere in the future. I know we appreciate things more once the struggle is over, once you’ve lost something, all of those cliche sayings that we know are true. However, dealing with depression on a daily basis feels like I’m at war with myself, and I’m losing drastically. I just want to know that it’s going to be worth the fight in the end. Anyone else?
We hear so many different suggestions and opinions these days on how to deal with mental health issues. Some are condescending, some are ruthless and others are ignorant. Some are light-hearted, some are serious and awakening, and others are completely useless. After a fairly difficult few days, I decided I needed a kick up the backside and dragged myself to the computer, to find as many suggestions as I could for naturally helping beat depression.
One of the pieces which genuinely stuck in my mind has been this one, 11 Ways to Beat Depression Naturally, by Maria Rodale. It is simplistic, honest and not at all patronizing. For me, I felt a sense of compassion coming from her writing, as if she was actively trying to reach out to some of us. That’s probably all my emotions going crazy on me, but I wanted to share it anyway in case it helps someone else.
Also, if anyone has their own suggestions or ideas for dealing with depression, anxiety or anything else, please leave me a comment below as I’d really like to know how other people cope.
Lots of love xo
“Wild birds plow their way through the far reaches of space. How many never reach their final destination. But what difference does that make? They die free.”
Chief Inspector Erik Winter is a respected man based in Gothenburg, a man with a ‘more than meets the eye’ air about him in this first book of the series. Written in Swedish by Åke Edwardson, and translated into English by Ken Schubert, this detective / crime story has us grasping at straws for crimes to be solved before it’s too late. Winter flies over to London in attempt to team up with Detective Steve MacDonald, but can they push their differences aside and work together? Continue reading
Hey guys, anyone still there?
Just curious as to who’s made themselves a Bullet Journal… and if you have any pages to share?
I’ll be posting some of mine in the next few days.
If the silver slice returned to this pale white skin, the unpredictable damage would merely reject you. Drag you further away from this crumpled mess of defeat.
Let the blade draw back the curtains that mask the demons within this crimson river. Flowing through the channels of insanity, the unconscious poison winding within the blood stream.
Pumping through withering veins, infecting a battered heart and snaking through this brain. A crimson sludge leaving traces of decay along every passageway throughout this bludgeoned body.
Each echoing heartbeat is merely a reminder that he let you live, forcing you to revisit those late nights where you once had no escape except to play dead. Let him get in your head. He’s got you under the thumb ready to strike the second you move, just pray you stay numb.
An escape bolted shut. The windows too high. Before you hit the floor those sickening tears line his cheeks, as if pumped from thin air, where’d they come from? No one cares. He’s waiting. Staking out the next victim, lining up his words, as if reaching for an Oscar, he’d have a handful sooner than Leo made his first.
Instead of him on the stage let’s bring back that old blade, like the sun on the sea it’s catching each light, like a glimmer of hope that still wants you to fight. Those brown eyes refusing to burn out, anticipating the day your heart sets on fire, waiting for the one who will gift you desire.
If the blood breaks through the dam of your skin, build it back up before you let him win. Your heart and your soul were not his to claim, but each blow knocked them out of you, with no end to the pain. There’s only one option when it’s time to recover, pull the gun from your temple and hold on for another. The pain won’t last for as long as you might, but his pride goes unharmed if you won’t kick back and fight.
Your place is reserved on earth and in space, no one can remove you once you’ve set your own pace. Let each thought meander through the stream in your head, cast aside the danger that lays in your hands, you’re not ready for the end, so mind how you tread.
If there’s ever a day that I don’t compare
to you or her, or even any
theres something wrong, I won’t be all there.
its a daily ritual I can’t put to bed.
a mind-fucking curse, a poison in my head
where I’m desperately reaching for someone who’ll care.
destructive and damaged, with emotions too many
where I’ll push you away when in reality I want you here.