Nov 14, 2017
This content contains explicit and sensitive information that may not be suitable for all ages.
Depression is a tricky son of a bitch.
Even when you think you’ve conquered it, tied it up, and stuffed it in a nailed-shut box, that slippery bastard gets out at the worst times.
I thought I had depression all locked up. It had been about 16 months since my mental illness had taken over my body and forced me to lose control, sobbing in my bed because someone cancelled plans and I was convinced the world hated me.
I thought I was doing everything you’re supposed to do.
Sharing my feelings. Going to a therapist. A little bit of self medication. Working knowledge of how the mind tricks me. Discovering what elements of my past led to feelings of anxiety and loneliness. I thought I was doing everything you’re supposed to do to keep depression at bay.
Don’t get me wrong. It never completely goes away, but if life had a scoreboard over the previous year and a quarter, I was carrying a healthy lead – until I wasn’t anymore.
When depression hits, it gives no warning. It gives no reason. It gives no fucks about the rest of your life. It only takes.
It takes away your ability to know what to do next.
It takes away your confidence, intelligence, commitment, common sense, pride, and anything else that might tell you that you have self worth. It takes away your ability to know what to do next.
It can put tears in your eyes or a lump in your throat, a tremble in your hands or a quiver in your voice, fear in your eyes or you heart. It will take your talents and feed on your doubts
It makes you doubt your ability to do things you work on everyday, and it doesn’t tell you why.
The most frustrating thing about depression rearing its ugly head after a long period of hibernation is asking yourself why. Why today? Why right now? What happened?
You win some and you lose some, but you can’t stop the fight.
Yeah, I’ve been tired, work is getting tougher, my sleep schedule is a mess, and I haven’t had a date since last winter, but none of that is new, so why is today the day I have to fight back tears every time I open my mouth? Why did I have to have a conversation consisting of nods and grunts with my boss? Why was I so full of shame asking to leave work when I was clearly unfit to be there?
I don’t have answers to any of those questions. Sometime you just have to take the loss and live to fight another day. The next day. And the day after that and the day after that. The fight doesn’t stop. You win some and you lose some, but you can’t stop the fight.
Today, I signed up for kickboxing classes. Depression better put a mouth guard in.