The first rule of depression, is, well…
I’m not going to lie. I’m not going to sit here and tell you I’ve had a marvelous past few months. That would be lying. The past few months have been really rough. I’ve battled a life-threatening bacterial infection, had to come to terms with a body that doesn’t always want to cooperate, continue to get sick due to a suppressed immune system from the previously mentioned bacterial infection, and I’ve had to return to my high-stress, low-pay job.
Looking at that list, I’m ashamed. I feel like I should be coping better than I have been. That shouldn’t be all that it takes to knock me off my even keel. But it was. It did. It has.
I’m clawing my way up. I have yet to get back into the swing of things with my work, with my writing, after having been so sick I could barely form a coherent thought. Yes, I do need to forgive myself. Getting sick wasn’t my fault. And being that sick takes a heavy emotional toll on you. But I’m frustrated with myself. I should be able to do better. I should be stronger.
I’m not. And I’m learning that the frustration isn’t helping. It’s keeping me back. It’s keeping me in my depression. Just like not writing is keeping me there.
I’m almost afraid to say it. I haven’t been writing. Not regularly. Not daily. And that is something that I hold to be sacred. I’m failing at being myself. But I’m getting there. I’m getting to the point where I have creative energy left over when I get home. Sometimes, we just need to forgive ourselves our shortcomings. We can never move forward if we continue to hold a grudge.