Stupid Mountains
Generally I do my best not to post long and rambling messages such as the following. I know people are here for free shit and not to read whatever stupid crap I feel like talking about at the moment. But today, well, today I need to vent.
The struggle is real, frenns. Depression is kicking my ass today. I feel like giving up (I won't - I just feel like it). I felt good for a few days and then BAM - right back at it.
I sit and wonder WHY??? Why must I struggle like this? Is it going to be like this forever? I imagine so as I'm coming up on 40 in a few weeks and it's never not been a struggle. This is my cross to bear (bare?). This is my load to carry. This is my beast of burden, my weight of the world, the annoying monkey on my back. Actually I love chimpanzees and orangutans. This is more like a macaque. It's monkey-ish but really just ugly and creepy and basically gross.
Kids, I have a wonderful life. I have the most awesome husband and the funniest, most beautiful, kind and smart kids. I have a niece and nephew that are like my own. I have an amazing sister who has struggled with addiction for most of her life. We did A&E's Intervention and it saved her. She battled and survived. She is a part of my soul. If I got through that, that horrible and seemingly endless struggle, why can't I get a break?
I am so blessed. Yet lately, 95% of my day is spent feeling little to nothing or feeling hopeless. Sometimes sad. What people who don't suffer from depression don't realize is that depression is not so often sadness and crying. Depression is much more of NOTHING. Blah. Dump-on-a-log. Turd Ferguson. Yada yada. Same ole, same ole. Groundhog's Day. No point in nufin'. Big hurr, don't curr. And who wants to go through life that way? Ain't nobody got time fo' dat!
During the worst of it, I'm usually not laying in bed crying. I'm usually staring at Seinfeld reruns or binge-watching Breaking Bad or watching Napoleon Dynamite for the 137th time. Anything to keep me from locking myself in a closet whilst eating crayons and drinking cheap vodka and banging my head into the wall.
Unfair too is that many people believe depression is a choice. "Oh, cheer up!! Look at everything you have to be happy about!" "Stahp feeling that way!" "Turn that frown upside down!" These are the people I want to punch straight in the neck meat.
It is NOT a choice. It is NOT a mindset. My BRAIN is broken and while I'm no doctor, the last time I checked the brain is an organ just like the heart or the liver or kidneys. If I have heart failure, will you tell me to just think it away? Quit feeling like this? Tell my heart to start working properly and move on with my life? I think not.
Why, because it's my brain, is it something to be ashamed of? Something I shouldn't talk about? Something that, if I post too much about it on Facebook, people whisper behind my back that I'm looking for attention.
The point of this mindless rambling is NOT attention. I promise you. I don't want attention for my illness. I want attention for positive things. But that's not what I'm dealing with right now. Right now I'm trying to get through every second of every day. And one of the only things I have to hold on to in these moments, one of the only things that brings me true joy and a feeling of accomplishment and pride, is my graphic design. Oh, and hip hop music. There's not much I love more than driving in my truck, hip hop blasting, while I memorize the lyrics and rap along. Remember, I'm old and weird and fun. (Not right now though. I mean, I'm still old and weird right now. Just not fun.)
I don't know in this moment how much I believe this quote (below) that I found this morning but I'm doing my best to have faith in God and faith that I am struggling for a reason. I hope and pray I am being prepped for better things in my future. I have to believe that there is reason for this and it isn't just a sad and sorry hand I've been dealt that holds no purpose whatsoever and the rest of my days will be spent crawling and scratching to get through one second to the next with no light on the horizon. Please, God.
Thank you for allowing me to vent. Even though no one technically allowed me, the interwebs allowed me, so thank you, interwebs. And thank you to anyone who makes it through that sad sack story and hasn't ripped her own eyelashes out before it ended.
On that fun note, here is a printable!! :)
* Free to use however your little heart desires *
