How Will I Get By

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The day I was officially diagnosed with depression all I had was questions.
The sadness and pain I felt was so deep it felt like it was ripping my body in half and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it. The more I tried to push on, the harder it grabbed on to me, shoving me mercilessly into the shadows of my own hell.

And there is no hell like your own hell because nobody can trap you in a place filled with your every insecurity, your fears, and worries quite like you can.

How will I breathe again? How will I be able to take deep breathe’s without someone applauding me for doing so. How will I learn to exhale without the nagging sense of anxiety the follows every pang in my chest and every churn in my gut? When you’re so hurt and disappointed by your own life that it literally takes your breath away you start to wonder these things. You try to be grateful for every inhale and every exhale even on the days where that’s the only thing you can manage to do.

How will I smile again? How will I find the small joys in life that make you laugh just by watching them when you don’t even feel connected to the world anymore? Does laughter mean anything if it’s hallow and detached – when it’s forced and strained because you want to be able to show the people who care about you that it’s still possible for you to do so? How do you pretend things are getting better over the days and the weeks when it feels like time is standing still and you’re a part of the world but not in it? You try to view it as a carousel that you’re just not on right now, and you wait and watch for your turn to get back on.

How will I sleep again, or eat, or move through the day without all of my energy being used up just to do small things? How do I not get frustrated when I look in the mirror and I don’t even recognize myself, or my life, or how I got to this place that I can’t get out of? How do I get use to pumping myself full of little white pills, and green pills, and waiting and waiting for them to be some magic express lane back to sanity. How do I get use to feeling that my default mode is insanity? You try to focus on doing everything one day at a time, and not the hooky, 12 step one day at a time but really because you only exist moment to moment.

How will I trust again? How can I trust that anyone could be there for me or even love me when all of this baggage surrounds me and every time I let someone peak in on it, they flee. How can I hear the words, “I’m here for you” and have it mean anything more than, “I’m here for you maybe, sometimes, when it’s convenient and probably not while you’re crying.” How can I help anyone know what to do about me when I don’t even know what to do about me? How can I continue to be compassionate towards everyone else but myself? Because I’m hardest on myself – because everyday like this means another day I couldn’t make myself better. You try… you just keep trying.

How do I not feel like my world is disintegrating all around me? How do I get use to feeling out of place in my own skin, a place I have thus far spent my entire life getting use to? How do I not feel like the worst version of myself, that I have let everybody down, when every morning and every night that’s all I think about. How do I find me, the real happy, optimistic and talented me when it feels like she’s gone, she abandoned me and left nothing but grief and sorrow in her place. How do I not feel like it will always be like this, a struggle on top of a time in life when their are already so many of those in my way. You try to pray, everyday for more patience, more love, and more healing to come to you from unexpected people and places and hope that sustains you until you can find it on your own.

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