“Hello, This is your Captain, Depression, speaking.”
I don’t just struggle with depression… I get my ass kicked by it. People who interact with me from day to day hardly notice. Most people who know me tend to say, “I can’t tell you even have depression.”
Oh, you can’t tell.
Probably because it took me 6 hours to talk myself into getting dressed and taking the dog to the vet. Because that is normal and all.
My sheer willpower is amazing. I really do WILL myself through a lot of my struggle. It makes me extra emotionally fatigued.
—————— I wish I had an answer.
Meds? PFT. WTF.
I have some complicated medical problems that make meds difficult to manage and regulate.
Yoga. Tried it
Exercise. ALL the damn time
Cry. You bet.
Therapist. Saw so many, I decided to become one.
God. Tried Him, he built churches full of douchey people and they make depression worse. He needs to troubleshoot the system.
Sun lamp. boooooring
Holistic. NOT ENOUGH WHEATGRASS IN THE WORLD, y’all.
PTSD is part of the depressive diagnosis I have. Days run together feeling as though they will never end. I want to get better. I wish I had a WEEK, just a week, where I didn’t feel so….
But then people think you aren’t capable, that you are an unreliable mess. Then you feel the need to hide.
This month has been rough.
Tomorrow I am going to try and get up, brush my hair, and get dressed for the day.
Depression is a liar, y’all.
Maybe I should try electro-shock therapy.