Day 6
My hope: that writing these last six days has begun to grow the seedling of habit. Tonight this page is the last place I want to be. It’s been a really hard day. Maybe I’ll feel like writing about it tomorrow, maybe not. But being in recovery has taught me that I have to show up for myself no matter what. I made the commitment to myself last weekend that I would write for seven days. This is day number six.
Depression leaves me feeling worthless. Because I have nothing in me to give to those I love (energy-wise), I believe this means I am nothing. Self-love is whittled down to a hard knot of self-loathing. Depression does this. Its voice tells me all kinds of lies about myself. These lies are cunning; they seem real because they’re made out of my deepest fears.
My hope is that by creating this habit of writing when I’m feeling semi-okay, I will continue to write when I’m in the darkest throws of depression. Maybe one of you will feel less alone when you read these pieces of my story. Even the barest whisper of this possibility makes me feel like a worthwhile human being. My hope is I can still feel worthy of love, worthy of being here engaged in this life, when I’m depressed.
Published by lunargirl27
I am a writer and an artist, a teacher and a swing dancer (and a lover of all dancing); a woman who loves to dig in the dirt, talk to the flowers and sleep with the trees. I am an eternal student. Though I consider myself an introvert, my passion is finding true connection with others. I have lived with life-long chronic illness, and continue to struggle both with physical health issues, and bouts of depression and anxiety, sometimes debilitating. I am still reconciling my past with its effect on my present; learning to love the little girl who is still me, the one who carries our trauma. And I am finally, FINALLY, starting to know what loving myself actually feels like (less like an article in a self-help magazine, more like a loving expansiveness of self and a union with others. I don't like that description at all, but for now I'll let it be. This will kill my perfectionist). I'm here because I want to share my experience, strength, and hope. Not because I want to save or fix you, but because I hope you will see a reflection of your own strength and ability to heal in my words. The bad news is that no one will do this hard, at times painful, self-exploratory work for you. It's a humbling process. The good news is that you are capable of seeking help, and you deserve the love, support, and understanding that will help you heal. I acknowledge here, my privilege of having access to emotional support resources. I know I am one of the lucky ones. Though we cannot see each other, I know a little piece of you, just as you know a little piece of me. Our stories may be different, but we understand a shared pain. Though the specifics belong to each of us alone, our healing comes from also being able to see the similarities. This is how we break out of our isolation. And even if none of this helps you, maybe something here will lead you to a path that can offer you some hope and healing.
Reach out anytime, I would love to hear from you.
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my body speaks 