Back again.

A blog about depression...not exactly the most appealing description of a blog I admit. But that's exactly what it is, warts and all. I wish with all my heart I could sit here and say that in the 3 years since my last post, I have been healed, I have discovered a cure for how I feel, I found the light. Unfortunately I haven't done any of those things, not for want of trying. But that's real life; there are no quick fixes and there definitely is no "cure" to an illness like depression, despite what people may tell you.

The past 3 years for me have been somewhat fractured. Fratured moments and periods of time where I thought I was on my way forward, only to be knocked back again and again. It is so very tiring. It's tiring even to sit here and explain to someone how heartbreaking it is to get so far out of the darkness to only fall back to where you started. This time last year I was on a health kick; having my mind to focus on something else was a good tool and for a while it worked. But only a while. As with every fix I try, it will last a good month and if I am lucky, sometimes two before reality starts crashing down.

I often compare how I am feeling to being in a room. A room with no doors, so there is no way out. Except there is a window; a really really small window. Where I can see cracks of what could be, snippets of a happier life, taunting me as I scream out but no one heres. God, that sounds depressing as fuck but hey, imagery is good and it sounds kind of poetic, huh? I'm one of those annoying twats who will share quotes on your Facebook wall because I can relate to them. I have a large collection saved on my phone and every so often, I'll dig them out when I'm having a particularly hard day. I'm not talking the "live, laugh love" sort of quotes. I like the ones which I see and think wow, yes that's me. Not everyone gets it and that's ok.

Where am I now? Not in a good place. My mind, honestly, flits between wanting to live and wanting it to all be over The latter has always been the weaker part but it's there. And it sounds an awful, awful thing to say doesn't it? When I have a beautiful family who loves me and so seemingly, I have it "all". Which often makes it so much worse. I sometimes freak people out when I say how low I am. But it's the truth. It doesn't mean I'm going to suddenly switch and end my life. I'm not, nor would I ever do something like that. But I can see why people do. Because an exsistance with depression is more than hard. It's an every minute of the day exhausation. Not just mentally but physically too. And so many people don't get it. They don't get why you moan. They don't get the constant paranoia. The don't get the neediness, the loneliness and the raw pain of waking up each day to another hell.

I feel like I must end this blog post on some kind of positive note, because social media makes you feel like you should always show the positive happy side of you. Perfect. But this is my blog, so I will be as depressing as fuck as I like. But today I did get out of bed. I smiled. I lived. I played with my beautiful girl and lay in the arms of my caring, sweet husband. Because they are the reason I wake up every day to fight again. I take the tablet, I keep trying. Always. And that must count for something right?