“You’re not being difficult. You’re struggling. There’s a difference.”
Every change in my life, no matter how big or how small, puts my mood on a roller coaster that is ultimately headed towards drops where you stomach is in your throat and the end is nowhere in sight.
I graduated grad school with a spectacular record, glowing recommendations from my professors, and the full time job I’ve been dreaming of a month and a half before I even graduated.
And still I crash. Pretty spectacularly. I had about four solid days where I felt like I was moving in slow motion, couldn’t remember what I was doing, and didn’t want to eat. I almost passed out once.
This time though, I couldn’t just call up my therapist and go “HELP,” because I’ve moved, and all the safety nets I had in place before are gone. So I have to start the process to find a new one. Which, when you feel alright can be difficult, and when you feel like crap seems next to impossible. Because when you have brain like mine, it likes to lie to you. A lot.
You are overreacting.
You don’t need to take your meds.
Food tastes bad. And if you do eat, you’ll be sick.
You are making stuff up.
You get the idea. And all those little mean voices were kicked into high gear from the stress of trying to make a decision of who to call. To the point where I couldn’t hear my voice anymore. And that is scary. And dark. And lonely.
But the moral of the story is that there is strength in the darkness. There truly is. Sometimes you need a friend to help you find it, like I did today. It wasn’t the first, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.
This is my brain. I can’t trade it in for a new one. This depression and anxiety thing is more pervasive and fluid than I ever imagined. It’s constantly changing shape and I can’t nail it down in any way in order to try and make it stop. Many times I can find the strength in it.
But sometimes I need someone to light my way.