Cheer up, Buttercup

It's a funny thing depression; I grew up thinking that I'd never struggle with it because I was a happy child and content adolescent. I never anticipated that I'd feel like I've been hit by a bus or drowned and resuscitated in a tortuous never ending loop, but maybe I was too naive to know better or in denial because well adjusted educated adults don't suffer this way, right?

 It's hitting me hard lately, and I've never felt this severe.

My body hurts all over, food is an afterthought, and on the days I don't work I struggle with leaving my bed. Before yesterday I hadn't showered in a week. I don't know what to do here. Admittedly there are so many people who struggle with this very same disease and in that respect I'm just like them, just like the rest, by no means special, but I am lucky in regards to having the friends and family that I do, the ones who can see that I am in "a place" and call to check in, invite me to dinner, give me a hug, and tell me that if I need to talk they're there to listen.

What do you say to someone who has no idea where you're coming from? How do you get them to see that you want to get better, you want to be happy, but you simply don't know how?

I am trying.

I've taken up skating again, although I'm quite critical of myself because my endurance and skills have decreased since my long hiatus, but I push anyway. I've gone to the gym a few times for long durations to try and focus on other things. I am writing more, applying for jobs at publications in hopes that I land my dream job and my life becomes the fairy tale I imagined as a girl. I'm browsing the dating websites, nothing serious, just a video game where I go back to 5th grade and I'm passing an internet note that reads "do you like me circle "yes" or "no". It's too soon to open up again, but I keep the faith.

Listening to a lot of indie rock lately- trying to cheer myself up, regain momentum, clean my fucking apartment because "squalor" is not a good look for anyone.

Brad has become this intrusive entity in my dreams; I can't stop recanting the moments where in between work and play there was a closeness, an intimacy that I found came easy. I'm saddened still that it's over, but I am proud of myself for being more honest this time- I was candid with the fact that I am insecure and that I need things that perhaps present themselves as a task that is not easily tackled, to care for a person who is suffering from an illness that renders them impossibly resigned.

Unfair perhaps.

I know better, I know there is a light at the end of this tunnel, and I know that there is help out there but I'm weary on this journey and I'm loosing speed. Gotta keep the faith, have to pray harder, have to see a therapist, need to get well.

Somethings gotta give, right?

Thanks for listening, smell ya later.