I really don’t know why I wrote this… Maybe to help y’all, maybe to admit depression is STILL very present in my life. I grew up in a household where happiness wasn’t a priority. I was often times made to feel as if my desires for happiness were equivocated to desires for sewing singing mice (As in Cinderella). My mother who suffers from what I call Chronic Eeyore Syndrome (as in Pooh Bear’s sad ass friend) would shrug or fuss off my complaints of unhappiness. As in many homes I was told that I had a roof over my head, clothes on my back, and food in my belly… by all accounts I should be fine- if not happy. Low and behold I have wrestled with depressive bouts and thoughts of “checking out early” for over half of my life. Whewww that was HEAVY!! In no way blaming my Mommy (Dearest) for my mental health issues; I am, however, saying the foundation for discontent was sturdy as hell.
I was seeing a therapist for a while and she was a God-send. We unpacked all the shit that I had been suppressing and masking it was great. She got me on some meds to help with my Anxiety and my Chronic Depression (depression lasting for years). The most interesting (to me) part about my depression is how it varies in manifestation, it can be me looking hella sexy in a large group of friends, or a simi- hot drunk ass mess, or (my favorite) looking like a cat lady. While my meds helped me get by from day to day they did not aid in resolving my issues. They were used to numb the sting of sadness and what ifs being that I was numb people said it was like I wasn’t my truest self, like I was only a shell of me. Of course I didn’t like feeling or seeming like a hallow version of myself… and my healthcare provider was changing- my access to my therapist and her magical meds ceased.
My medicines as of now are my creative outlets (LML and Slay). However, sometimes they feel more like distractions more than help. Once I realize I’m putting one of my creative outlets before my self-care, it’s usually too late and looks something like Flint, Michigan (there’s far more than water plaguing that city). Depression… I’m working on it and me.
Thats all I’ve got to say about that
“Keep your head held high, kiss your fist and touch the sky”