I slept til 3 PM and ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
But I am thankful for my friends, for the man I love, for my job, for the love of my Maker.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Saturday, November 12, 2011
I am.
I should NOT be blogging when I want to get another 5,000 words done on my novel before I go to bed, but I left this on such a bad note last time I felt I owed an update.
One night, a little over a week ago, I was lying in bed, crying uncontrollably. I texted a friend who'd been gone for a week. I told him I hurt so bad. He asked what was hurting me, and the answer was...nothing. There was no cause, the pain just came, relentlessly, from inside myself.
Pain. That's all it is. I can handle pain. I get migraines, and I have to deal with them. I have a bad knee, and I have to deal with it. My fractured tailbone still hurts, and I have to deal with it. So why is it so hard for me to deal with this pain?
Depression is like a vampire. I can see myself that night, lying in bed while the monster drained the life out of me.
No more. I have a stake in one hand and a sledgehammer in the other. If my depression wants me, it can try and take me, but I won't go without a fight.
I know that part of my improvement is from the Prozac, and part is from the love and support of my friends. But part of it is rediscovering the strength of my will.
I've got this.
One night, a little over a week ago, I was lying in bed, crying uncontrollably. I texted a friend who'd been gone for a week. I told him I hurt so bad. He asked what was hurting me, and the answer was...nothing. There was no cause, the pain just came, relentlessly, from inside myself.
Pain. That's all it is. I can handle pain. I get migraines, and I have to deal with them. I have a bad knee, and I have to deal with it. My fractured tailbone still hurts, and I have to deal with it. So why is it so hard for me to deal with this pain?
Depression is like a vampire. I can see myself that night, lying in bed while the monster drained the life out of me.
No more. I have a stake in one hand and a sledgehammer in the other. If my depression wants me, it can try and take me, but I won't go without a fight.
I know that part of my improvement is from the Prozac, and part is from the love and support of my friends. But part of it is rediscovering the strength of my will.
I've got this.
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