I’m still not sure how I feel about my last post. I feel stupid for writing the things that I did. I feel stupid for not just enjoying the ride that I am on. I feel like I should just shut up and stop whining.
It’s 2:30 right now and I’m not in bed because when I get up, it will be time to go to work and everything seems to be worse at work.
The best part about this insane depression is that I constantly feel like I’m getting sick. The light bothers my eyes. My head hurts. I feel groggy. My stomach has been a mess for more than a week. And yet, I’ve been dealing with this long enough to know that it’s nothing some patience, light and a change in the seasons won’t fix. It’s just that sometimes it’s hard to remember that. Sometimes it seems like the fog will never lift. Sometimes I just want to crawl into bed and never come out.
And so I hold my breath.
I have to tell myself to breathe. To take a deep breath. Hold it and then let it out. Rinse and repeat. When I forget to breath the fog seems to grow thicker. And when the fog grows thicker the light disappears. And when the light disappears so does the hope that the fog will lift. A person can’t live without hope. It’s the thing that keeps us going.