The Good Fight

In my recent blog posts, for some reason I keep talking about my "last" icky bout of depression like it's past tense. It's still happening...I am still in it. There have been some really really dark days and if my head is above water it is only just so. Any little thing sends me back under the thick black water of rage, tears, exhaustion, and suicidal ideation (thinking but not doing).

Last week I had an extremely bad day. In the end, I had a medication issue, but not realizing what was going on, I spent a whole day being an emotional train wreck. On that day, I wrote, and subsequently deleted, a very negative blog post. A few people saw it. It's not vital that I go into it in this post...but it raised some red flags in my family. My mom and sister and a few friends were very concerned for me...as well they should have been. They called or Facebooked and rallied around me. I really needed it. A lot of people I care/cared about are no longer walking with me through this illness. I feel like I am sucking my loved ones dry, so my heart soared to know that people were still willing to be invested in my mess. I am thankful that there are a few people still in my corner...cheering me on and pushing me forward.

This particularly prolonged season of depression has been with me (in varying levels of intensity) for nearly two years. I am burning out on new game plans and new diets and new meds and new blahbbity blahs. I just want to feel good again. I am truly getting weary of fighting. Some days I just want to let the dejection wash over me and have it's way.

BUT...I plan to keep fighting. I am running an emotional marathon. I'm plodding along, but I'm still in the race. There is no new plan in place. I just have to keep working the old one and taking every day as it comes...one foot in front of the other. It is my hope to one day look back on this interval of depression and view it as a time where God used the agony within me to produce beautiful things in me like resilience, strength, hope, and faith.