Do you ever read your own blog? I do, because I started with acknowledging what I have to be grateful for. When I felt bad, I could return to the posts, and lighten my mood.
Meh, that never took place, until I started archiving some of it. I’m sure it will be something for my kids to read if they ever develop insomnia.
Around the time of the Sandy Hook Elementary School killings—by a mentally unstable person. I went off the path I was on.
I have many soapboxes I use for various issues I stand for.
One soapbox was the one I used for being the face of mental illness, my struggle to manage and live in spite of it. Which I have been doing for 40 years. I never freaked out in public–can’t say the same about home–and the thought of harming another person would never cross my mind, even in my darkest of dark days. There are many like me.
Recently, I was about to give up. I told my husband I can’t do this anymore…I wasn’t strong enough. He made me come out from under the covers, took me to the local Dairy Queen (our favorite date night place), and we ate dinner in the car–this time minus the ice cream. He told me that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for.
The next day, I had a lot going though my mind. One of them was the statement from my husband about being strong.
I am strong
I wanted to be an example of how I survive. I seriously don’t think it was healthy to stay in the negative thinking world, trying to convince others that many live with mental illness just as they would with any other disease.
The more I blogged about it, the less credibility I felt I had. I was actually bringing myself down just by talking about depression over and over. I wasn’t showing the strength it takes to manage mental illness.
The way I live–what gets me up in the morning–is that I know that I can tackle the day. It may not be perfect, but as long as I know I tried one little thing, I was successful.
I laugh, I pick random topics to have discussions with anyone who will engage. Not the person who looks like they are listening but are thinking about what they are going to do to get me to shut up.
And I have days I struggle to get through.
As we all do.
I feel I may have contributed to helping some understand depression a little more, but my intent was to show that I am no different than anybody else. I simply process information a bit skewed at times, and I’m learning how to change that.
I’m burning that particular soapbox because it is worn out. It is time to return to how I live in spite of myself.
Whew! Aren’t you happy? 😀