“I think I am struggling a little with depression.” I say
as tears well up and then silently slip down my cheek trying to escape to the
dry ground before anyone notices their presence.
It’s just me and my husband on the trail at this point but
that is enough and I am exposed.
“You probably will your whole life,” he says.
“Nope” I say flatly and I mean it even as more tears escape.
“Good” he comments with a slight sense of pride.
He reassures me that I have done a good job at keeping
myself out of depression. He praises me for my efforts to beat it. And I am
glad for this.
I am glad that he understands and is supportive of my
intense desire to beat it. To change that aspect of me so that I don't have to
struggle with it my whole life. It has been many years that I have struggled
with depression and it has brought me very near to breaking points... Or I may have broken many times but I am not beat by it
and I can proudly and
confidently tell you that it is not a struggle for my whole life.
I have beat
it because I know it. I know what it looks like, I know when it is coming, and I
know what to do about it. I know how to take care of myself and I know how to
beat it again and again until it is not a struggle and it is not a burden of my whole life to wallow in.
I am a better and stronger person because of it but eventually I will lose touch.
I will forget what it is like to go through and
I will be yet another person who just doesn't get it, not because I never have
like most who don't get it, but because I have lost touch. I have healed, I have beat it, I have outgrown it
and I have moved on.
I am happy to know that and I feel better already.
I am happy to know that and I feel better already.
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