I know I write this blog and I talk about getting over things, how to be happy, how to get your life together. But by no means does that mean that I actually have my own life together/ that my life is perfect.
I think a big issue in the world is that we all pretend like “our shit don’t stink”… and let’s face it, errrrrbodys shit stinks.
I get messages from you guys all the time saying “thank you for posting the blog on depression” “thank you for your honesty” but holy crap- I am so far from perfect.
This morning I didn’t think I could get out of bed. Yes, I am on depression and anxiety medicine, but that doesn’t mean that every day is perfect. I so have my good days and bad days. The only difference with the medicine is that I can be a bit more rational in my thoughts.
I don’t sleep at night because, well, I have no clue why. I can’t look at pictures of the dog that my ex and I bought because it makes me want to cry. Sometimes my roommate comes home and I am laying on my floor staring at the ceiling and she has to coax the rational Kristen to emerge again. Depression medicine is not a permanent fix.
Sometimes the anxiety I have is so intense it convinces me that people hate me. That my own Ass/Kicker Mom hates me, that my roommate will kick me out because I keep forgetting to put the pizza cutter in the sink. That I will be fired if I come in at 8:03 instead of 8:00.
The biggest difference between a bad day now, versus months ago is my attitude. When I couldn’t get out of bed I text my roommate. (I have learned that I cannot keep those types of secrets to myself). She made me a cup of coffee and text me saying “breathe. Go take a shower and #handleit”. So I got up. I told her all of my irrational thoughts and the moment they left my mouth I was at ease.
I am grateful for these days though because they let me learn so much. Like the importance of friends… and coffee.