I choked back hot, angry tears at yoga. in a forward fold, after a series of hip opening twists where my muscles screamed and their tightness held me back, I felt a burst of anger toward my body. I felt betrayed by the muscles that are supposed to be strong for me, felt trapped in a shell that didn't let me move like my spirit wanted.
I took a tiny pill. the first of what will surely be many. I cried about the idea for two weeks before this first step, feeling overwhelmed by all the change it will bring, uncertain about who I'll become and how I'll feel when my depression no longer rules over everything. but I jumped over the hurdle, and took the first pill, and it felt like a tiny victory.
I keep waking up at 2:30 am for no reason. but I lay in bed, wide awake, wondering what in my brain told my body that this was an appropriate time to be awake. I feel restless, and torn between getting up to try to be productive and trying to force sleep that isn't coming. I feel like maybe there's a reason this time keeps beckoning me, but I don't know what it could be.
I go days without talking to anyone. No friends, no family members, no coworkers. I keep my head down, keep my phone off, keep to myself. I isolate myself, shrink back where I feel safer, and shut out the people who care about me.
I go through waves with my writing. Some days, I can't stop journaling my prayers, my thoughts, my anxieties. Sometimes I go a week or more without putting a single word on paper, trying instead to just get through the days and somehow be okay.
I haven't been eating much. I don't really have an appetite, and nothing really seems good, and I don't really care to cook, and I just don't feel motivated to nourish my body well.
all pointing to i'm not okay.
I want to be, truly. but yet, not entirely.
because part of me (most of me, maybe) quite likes the comfort of what is known, what is familiar, what is habit. it's harder to put effort in. it requires caring, and planning, and thinking, and feeling, and acting. and lately, the fog has been thick, and the dark has been heavy, and I just haven't felt okay.
these little clues are telling me things.
i'm learning to listen.
i'm finding small ways to take steps toward progress.
i'm showing up, still, to my counselor's couch every week. I made it back to the farmer's market, and got excited about fresh veggies and the new meals I could make with them. I asked a friend to go on a walk with me, and I shared about how real depression has been for me lately. I sprayed essential oils on my pillow, and rubbed them on my feet, and got a weighted blanket to help me sleep through the night better, and they're helping so far. I keep taking that tiny pill every morning, even though I can't feel it helping yet. I keep showing up to yoga classes, knowing the stretching is painful but it is good. I have left my journal where i'll see it, and I find myself writing more.
and i'm remembering truth.
even on the days it feels hard. especially on the days it feels hard.
because all of these little clues point me to one big truth: I am not God of my life. God is God. and He is good. and He is good at being God.
and I will keep preaching that truth to myself, day in and day out. I will keep believing, and I will keep praying for help in all my unbelief. I will keep taking baby steps forward toward healing and growth. I will keep listening to the little things, I will keep learning.
i'm not okay. not yet.
but God is God. and He is good.
and growth is happening. good is coming. by grace, I will keep carrying on.