Do you ever find yourself feeling not-so-hot, for no good reason? Like – life is pretty good, you know? You’re doing great, even. You’re loved. You get to have fun. Your basic needs are met, and then some. And yet…
That’s how I felt when I went to bed Sunday night. I have no real complaints about life. I want to be clear about that because I don’t feel sorry for myself and I don’t want anyone else to feel sorry for me, either. That isn’t the point. Truth is – I just get down sometimes and have to ride it out. And I’m always surprised by this, because there’s no precursor, nothing that tells me the down times are coming. They just happen. And when these times happen, they suck.
So that’s where I’m sitting at the moment. I’m trying to remember to count my blessings instead of focusing on the blues. I’m also trying to remember that depression isn’t me. It’s something I occasionally go through, but I am not defined by it nor am I at its mercy. Yes, it sucks. Yes, it will last as long as it lasts. But it isn’t me. It isn’t the girl whose glass is overflowing. It isn’t the girl who is grateful just for waking to a new day. And it certainly isn’t the girl who loves this life more than butter.
Sorry for oversharing, if that’s how you read this. But I haven’t made a habit of lying to you, and I see no reason to start now.