It’s me… I’m the “happiest person”
I don’t talk about depression often, not in great detail anyway. I cannot tell my story when I’m brushing over such an important part of it. Going forward, I’m going to do everything I can to stop filtering that part of myself out of my writing. Depression has always been a silent killer in my life, and an invisible one because most days I appear so happy on the outside.
Some days I’m not faking, most of the time I genuinely have a lot of energy. Sometimes, depressive episodes consume my normal way of thinking. I can start the day on top of the world and suddenly, with no warning, something in my brain changes and I spiral down. I don’t even have the energy to fake it
This happened yesterday, and I don’t have a full blog post because of it. Last night, I took the time to listen to my mind. I couldn’t tell you why I was feeling this way or even what I was feeling. All I knew was that I couldn’t function.
So instead of beating myself up, I simply did my best. I stayed with myself and my feelings and felt what needed to be felt. I ate some chocolate and let it be. After a long night, I started feeling more like the ‘normal’ bubbly person that I am.
99% of the time, life is not glamorous. It sucks, but this is still my life and I love myself through the chaos that is in my brain. This is me not even pretending to be happy for Instagram, because this is #realpost
I’m sorry for such a cheesy post. This only scratches the very top surface of my depression, there is so much more and I am finally ready to go deeper.