I hate days like today. The low days. Days where depression seems far stronger than I am, and drags me down like an anchor, strapped to my ankles.
I feel helpless, hopeless, pathetic, sad, angry, scared, frustrated, and overall, simply emotional. Exhausted. Overwhelmed.
I feel the pressure of all the things I need to do, weighing down my shoulders, pushing me into a slump, increasing the negativity of my current self. I know I’ll regret not working on the things I need to get done, but when I try to push those overloaded shoulders up and get to work, I find I lack the energy.
I didn’t a few hours ago. Why now? What’s changed?
My depression got a boost from my new hormone pills, and together, they’ve knocked me on my back.
I stare up at the ceiling, wondering how it came to this. I was happy; laughing; the smile on my face came so easily. I was jazzed, ready to take on the world, had a plan.
That stupid little pill, the one fixing my screwed up body, had to be taken at noon. I steeled my mind to stay positive, to keep up the same attitude and energy even after the pill’s contents had entered my blood stream.
I failed. Again. The pill is too difficult to fight when I haven’t slept well. I can’t be tired and strong – it’s too much to fight on my own.
So I fall. Just keeping my mind from sinking into darkness is a chore, and now I have to settle for a new goal for the day: breathing.
I’ll turn to God. Pray for a while, set my mind on things that will make me at least want to smile. I’ll push through, and later welcome sleep. I’ll wake in the morning, once again jazzed and ready to get everything done. I’ll take my pills at noon, and be back where I am now.
Oh, how I pray for the day my body is straightened out, where I don’t feel like this any more. Then I can be over these pills. Done with the roller coasters. Past the madness.
Until that day, I’ll simply breath.