Lately I have been sharing that I have depression and anxiety with people that I would not normally share with. I’m not walking around with a sign that says that, but as conversations with others unfold, I have found that it’s an ok time to share part of my story. It is in hope that it helps end the stigma, it is in hope that someone else feels ok with their story.
I’ve thought so many times, that this life we are living, can be so tough, the cards we are dealt can make things challenging. It is in these times that we need to remember that we are so much stronger than we think. Your success rate, up until this exact moment in time, in dealing with tough situations, is 100%. That’s a pretty damn good statistic. 100%. You are just are tough as what comes your way.
There have been times where my mental illness has caused me to feel so much pain, for so long, that I started to actually feel nothing. Numb is what I was. My edges have been ripped. My soul has been torn. All to the point where I felt nothing. Try to imagine the actual idea of truly feeling nothing. That’s what depression can do to you, that’s how much control it can have over you. It takes from you until there is nothing left to take. It’s a thief of all things good. It takes all of your hope from you, right from under your feet.
My ripped edges and torn soul make me the person I am today. If given the choice to not have them damaged I would probably take the option. But I need to realize that they contribute to the beauty of being who I am. They contribute to the beauty of being outside of the ordinary. What makes you outside of the ordinary may not be a mental illness, but it’s just as meaningful.
I’ve had to pick myself up off the floor so many times I can’t count. Literally sometimes, I’ve had to pick my broken, sobbing, self, off the floor and just continue. Continue being. Continue surviving. Just continue living one more day. I’ve had to dry my tears countless times. But it is in these times that I have found a way to begin again. Daring to make the choice to place your broken pieces of your heart back together in your chest and to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
That’s how I have learned to survive. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other.