Asking for help. Or admitting that I needed to ask for help. Or saying that I’m not feeling okay or that I’m not okay. Whether your journey with depression is old or new, the moment you have that realization that you need help is never easy.
I’ve talked and written a lot about my mental health journey, and still very much stand behind the fact that I think, that it’s a illness that you never fully “recover”, it’s something you learn to live with and find ways to deal. But when those ways don’t work and there’s too much stress over shadowing your life, it can be that depression is able to take the front seat without you even really noticing, before it’s “too” late.
Even with my open approach to my depression journey, the moment doesn’t get any easier for me. I still feel like I’m shit at everything and my self worth is just non existing. The loser feeling that my depression is able to put me under is so tiring that I just want to cave under it. It’s so hard to see anything positive, while at the same time you’re able to smile at certain things like before. As being depressed or living with depression doesn’t mean always or all the time that you are just lying in bed not doing anything about anything and wishing for your own death. That can happen, but there’s mostly days when you live your normal life and in those days you have moments when the pure weight of life is making your knees buckle. And those are the ones when your depression is able to weasel it’s way back to being the “main” feeling.
I’ve been struggling with my life and how much it’s full of change and uncertainty lately, not being able to just embrace it all. There’s been just too much. Way too much. And for example, I’ve really amazing things to wait to happen, trips to do, and I have nothing in me to truly feel exited. I know that I will be so happy while on them but at the moment, emotions of excitements are missing. It’s hard to push on when you are really struggling.
I managed to say to three people today that I need help. Two of them are my closest friends and I managed to say that I am not okay. One of them is my best friend, who knows me to the bones and back, who is able to listen and knowing really those feelings and bringing ways to see this all a bit lighter. The fact that I was able to say that I need help is huge to me, I remember times when that was just not even an option.
But the thing is, honestly, that admitting to yourself that you’re not okay is hard as fuck. You know in you that you are not shit like your depression makes you feel. You know that you are doing the best you can, and that feeling like you are a no good loser who never does anything good and doesn’t even know anything, is also coming from your depression. But those all are such a strong ghost to push out of your way that they have a tendency to suck you in, even for a bit. Depression is a bit of a motherfucker like that. It will find your weak moments to suck the last energy out of you.
Life is hard, and there comes moments when you just have had enough of those little things, which have piled to one huge one and you are ready to explode. I was so close to that yesterday and today I felt that it might really happen when I just start yelling out of nowhere because I’m so tired of so many things and couple small nonsense comments were almost able to push me over that edge. Edge that I have never crossed before in my life. But I’m so tired of feeling like my opinions don’t matter, and making myself smaller in front of certain people, tired of feeling like I’m not good enough. I think I’ve reached my limit and at the same time know and value my own self value. Finally.
I’m grateful that I’ve worked so hard with myself to find ways to live with my depression. I’m so damn grateful that I am so brave that I am able to say, with a lot of shitty feelings, that I am not okay and that I need help. I am so so grateful for my closest friends, for being there, understanding, listening, bringing some peace into this stormy mind and life of mine. I love you, thank you.