To My Village


If you remember reading something like this, feel free to scroll along because I may repeat.

Dear Village Members,

If the laundry stacks up, the bed doesn’t get made, I don’t feel like cooking dinner. If I don’t want to go out, or my lackluster attempts to show joy over your accomplishments, leave you feeling sad….

I’m not being lazy.

I’m not intentionally being mean or sad.

I seriously care. Inside my mind, some sort of bass-ackward misfiring synapses are running amok. I feel like I don’t care but it’s a mean joke my mind plays on me and it is hard for me to escape from. Even with medication, there may be moments, days, weeks, or months that I may fall into this wonky brain reaction, but it doesn’t mean I love you any less.

I want to participate in life. It’s like I’m a sick, little kid pressing my nose against the window of my brain, desperately wishing I could go out and play.

Not every day is like this, but on the days I let y’all know that this day isn’t a good one for me, that is what I’m feeling….like that little kid.

Please know I will keep trying because there is a me inside just waiting to enjoy life 100% of the time.

Be patient with me.

Your fellow village member is around most of the time but when I’m not, it’s best to leave me in my burrow. I will emerge–usually better than before.

My thanks to you, for giving the act of understanding a chance.


About April

I'll come back to this when I find out who I really am. I've been through some extremely rough patches but they have made me a better person. I blog if my brain is functioning first thing in the morning.
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19 Responses to To My Village

  1. reocochran says:

    I like to feel I am part of your village although in summer~ work is very hot and challenging. I cannot even force myself to look at blog posts on some nights. I let my village down, too. In different ways, I can relate to this so much, April. My son called me to tell me the grandies miss me. I told him to say I love them, passed the phone around. I did make it up to see my Mom this weekend, taking a 7 year old grandson. Turns out he is more patient than I expected and didn’t use any kind of exasperated tone when he repeated who he was over the 3 day weekend, nor his name or who his Mommy (my oldest daughter) was. I was so proud of him! 🙂
    Hugs sent your way, your distant cousin from Ohio. . . ❤

    • April says:

      Oh, that’s such a nice thing to say, Robin. I know what it’s like working in a warehouse during the summer. While my job was mainly to cut orders, when bored, I worked out with the workers in the warehouse. I hope you have a nice summer! ❤

  2. aviets says:

    Beautifully said. And you’re worthy of all the patience in the world. 😊

    • April says:

      It’s that painful part of guilt one has to deal with while depressed. I suppose to some guilt completely disappears, but I can only write from my experiences. I don’t want to do the things but sometimes, as hard as I try, I just can’t follow through…nor do I care to.

  3. Gallivanta says:

    See you soon. Is it a burrow or a transformative chrysalis?

    • April says:

      It’s a dirty burrow. But I’m emerging, it just takes a bit of time and everything is kind of an overwhelming mess. The good thing is that the depressive episodes don’t seem to come as often or last as long as they used to….thanks to my handful of pills.

    • April says:

      Oh! By the way, I read an article about Christchurch. I found it interesting that unused shipping containers were turned into temporary shops. And the cardboard church was a testament to your Village’s perseverance.

      • Gallivanta says:

        Wow, our news has travelled far. We still have the shipping container shops but buildings in the central city are nearing completion so the time will come when the containers are no longer needed. The containers like the cardboard cathedral were a Godsend. They rescued us from complete despair that life would ever be normal again.

  4. Sometimes I wonder if this inability to access the emotions you know you have (the apathy hinderence) is really that uncommon. I’m beginning to think that everyone deals with it at some point. I know I have had to learn to live through those days and I meet so many others who can relate. Perhaps it’s been a struggle of humanity since the dawn of time and it’s just been recently anyone was willing to talk about it.

    • April says:

      I think the problem, for me, I don’t want to deal with problems. I try to avoid. The more I avoid struggles, the more struggles I make for myself. I see that I’m doing this so I hope I can reach some sort of way to cope through the rough times.

  5. Glynis Jolly says:

    I understand. ❤

  6. Well, and kindly, said April. ❤

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