Gauged

NOTE: I am by no means advocating myself as a mental health professional. I am merely sharing my thoughts as an experience-r of depression and it's ails. If you are suffering from a mental illness or think you are, seek professional help. 

Mental health is scary and shrinks me to the smallest particle that there is in this universe.  Depression is a cold callous liar. It tells you that everything you are doing you should question. It also whispers everyday that you should operate and function with a reasonable amount of DOUBT. It makes you think that even though things may be going well, the depressive fog will never dissipate and emptiness will forever be your constant stability, as it has and will always be. It is crippling. BUT,  I have found I am stronger than I know and I know the truth beyond the lies: that nothing lasts forever and that means good or bad. 

I've struggled with depression for quite some time now. I used to chalk it up to my own moodiness and inability to cope with the waves of my life. I thought everyone struggled in the throes of their mind and I subsequently became almost perfect at masking my consistent pain with a smile and a crap ton of things to keep myself busy. 

For some reason, I have somewhat of an obsession with journals, most of them I find relevant to my  use for random to do lists. I recently came across a  journal entry, that made me happy, even though the content of the entry is far from happy:

January 28, 2017

Because time passes so quickly and I feel like I can’t keep up. I am currently in a state of wanting to do and be more, but not quite sure how. My attempts to do so seem to lack the progress and outcome I had hoped for. I am trying so hard to remain steadfast, and not be slighted. But I feel weak, I feel as though this moment may never end. I feel as though I will forever feel stuck and forever dumbed and quieted by positions that are not fully using my skill set.

At this time I see no foreseeable exit. My attempts seem to be in vain echoing over and over again. My inner heart is dwindling and dying and I don’t know how to revive it. So I feel like a blank most of the time. I feel like during times of solitude I drift away from my body into an ethereal essence. Feeling no pain or pleasure, I just am. Observing and seeing with objectivity.
— A special but random journal
Cringing a bit from the scratchy frantic mess that is my handwriting. But oh well, I am talented in many arenas, my handwriting can look like chicken scratch. 

Cringing a bit from the scratchy frantic mess that is my handwriting. But oh well, I am talented in many arenas, my handwriting can look like chicken scratch. 

Cool little things I have from my grandma. Not sure how functionable the camera is but I like how it looks as a knick knack. 

Cool little things I have from my grandma. Not sure how functionable the camera is but I like how it looks as a knick knack. 

A friend told me that she journals as a way to gauge her life and feelings. For me this is so gold, because as I mentioned before depression lies. Looking back now I can see the truth. That while I may have felt what I wrote above, I do not currently feel like an abyss of nothing.  I am better and can be better. So, therefore, nothing lasts forever. Not my shitty feels and not depression's lies. I need to write more to document both good and bad, and all the in-between- transitions. While writing doesn't cure everything I find it healing for me. This is a labor of self love and healing. I think it is very important to find what helps us heal and feel worthy. Until next time friends find something or do something that makes you feel good and heals you.