Every year around this time a fog of depression starts to curl around my brain. An unshakeable sense of doom and an overwhelming understanding of my own mortality fills my head and makes my heart heavy with dread. I seem to lose the ability to cope, wanting to curl up in bed and sleep through it. to wait for the feelings to pass.
Depression for me isn’t a feeling. It’s a state. I never felt depressed. If I’m being honest (which is what this blog is all about), when I was at my absolute worst, I didn’t feel anything at all. I didn’t feel joy or happiness. I didn’t feel fear or anger. I didn’t feel hope or excitement. The scariest part? I didn’t even realise how bad I was until I was able to look back and see it with some clarity. Coming to the realization that requiring antidepressants didn’t make me a bad mum, a liability, a failure or a Read More
There’s one question that sends my anxiety into overdrive. Even 2.5 years later, friends, acquaintances, even total strangers will bring it up. I hate it so much, I want to start a petition to have it banned. I don’t even want to type it, but I will.