There was an exact moment that I woke up and and consciously decided to live. I don't mean like, "you only live once" kind of thing. I mean I decided to live.
I was driving home from a friends house at 5am. We had talked literally ALL night. I sat down with her as one person and drove away the next morning as another. I drove away and on that 15 minute drive I decided to live. Up until this conversation no one had told me the truth. No one had told me what I looked like from the outside and you know what scared me the most? I wasn't hiding it as well as I thought I was. She knew, and if she knew then how many others knew? So, here I was alone in the car and I had two choices. Finally I could lay down and let the darkness take over, or I could light the match my friend had given me and start digging.
It's obvious what I chose to do, I chose to live. That was 15 years ago and I am still digging and I will be for the rest of my life. You know what is so beautiful though? Once I admitted to myself that I was going to have to work at keeping the darkness away it became easier. Does that make sense? Once I stopped trying to hide it and stopped fighting so hard to be "normal" I no longer had to carry it alone. I can retreat when I need to now because there are people around me that allow me to do that. Sharing the burden of depression, (or really anything) is key to surviving.
Monday, September 17, 2012
It's been a long time. Life kept on going and I never had a moment to write. I recently read some advice in a magazine intended for someone who wants to write. She said to put it into your schedule as an appointment. I thought this couldn't work for me because I usually just write when I have something that just won't stop going through my head and I need to get it out. Then I thought, maybe if I sat down regularly with the intention of writing my thoughts wouldn't have to yell so loud to get out. I want to try this and see what happens and I plan to attempt this here. We'll see...