Screw you...no wait, come back...

Clinical depression is a fickle bitch. One minute you're high as a kite, making big plans to conquer the world. The next you're a failure, fighting back the tears. There really isn't much middle ground. And it's exhausting. It's so much easier to just go with it, to do nothing or sleep (or it would be if I didn't have kids). Throw in some chronic physical pain and it really sucks (get my MRI results in June). Sprinkle in some ADHD and, well, you get the picture. I have so much guilt for what my depression puts my family through and yet I am so thankful that I have them. If I didn't have my husband and kids (and friends!), goodness knows where I would be.

Most people don't have a clue what it's like to live with something like depression. They don't understand. I joke. A lot. I hear I'm pretty damn funny. And I wear my funny like a shield. I joke about being lazy, being a procrastinator, being a multi-starter. But in reality, I'm none of these things. It's just that some times, most times, I just feel lost and/or overwhelmed. Some times, like today, I wake up with so many plans (paint the hallway) but things don't go exactly as I envisioned and next thing I know I'm down in the dumps again. Most times I can't even explain how I feel and I certainly can't tell you why I feel the way I do. Don't tell me to cheer up. Don't tell me to get over it. I'm not upset because my favorite TV show got cancelled and I don't have any control over it. If I seem grumpy or distant, just let me be. It's not you and this too shall pass. If you're my friend, just accept that this is a part of me and be there.  Don't give up on inviting me to things. Don't take my moods personal. If you happen to be the one standing there when my flood gates open-just let me rant for a minute or two. Don't roll your eyes on my good days when I'm excited about my plans. Do just listen. Say something funny. Be snarky with me. I don't know, just let me be me.

Sometimes I think it must be frustrating to be my friend or my husband or even my kids. I haven't been on any kind of medication for over a year now and have decided that it's time to go back down that road. There are good days where I'm bouncing off the walls with excitement over my latest plan to paint the whole house in a day, or clean out the garage and have that massive garage sale I've been talking about for years. Or going back to school to finish those last 5 classes. Or finding my sketch books and finally finishing that portfolio for Marvel that I started 20 years ago. Or following through on any one of the many DIY projects that sit in the garage or a closet. Then there are the other days where I'm standoffish, maybe quiet or tired or snarky and just a tiny bit mean. Those are the days that I'm struggling. Struggling to hide that what I really want to do is cry myself to sleep. The days where every failure, past-present-and future, are trying to suffocate me. That's when regret and what-ifs smother the joy I should be having from this amazing life I do have. Because I know my life is amazing. Don't you dare think that I don't.

(Sorry, this just made me chuckle)