It’s Been a Long, Long, Long Time…

Posted: 3 February, 2017 in Depression, Mental Illness

When George Harrison wrote those words, he was writing a love song. I haven’t written any love songs lately; in fact, I haven’t written anything lately. No blogs, no journals, no texts, no emails.

It’s been a rough few months. December started with my mother’s birthday, which was followed a few days later by the anniversary of her death. I spent Christmas and New Year’s alone. Next week marks the first anniversary of my father’s death, and March will have been his birthday.

I spent most of January in the deepest, darkest depression I’ve ever lived through. I didn’t leave the house during the entire month, and I only left my room for meals. I was numb. I felt nothing.

Three days ago, I was finally able to feel something. I cried at the end of a silly movie on Netflix. Last night, I cried again. It felt as if I was finally waking from a nightmare. At last, I felt something.

Today I left the house and went shopping for groceries. I stopped at the bank and withdrew my rent money. I am a functioning human being again.

And finally I can write again. Baby steps for now, but it’s a start.

So What’s The Point?

The point, trivial as it may seem, is that things do get better. It may take time—in my case, three months—but I survived.

This is not to make light of other people’s suffering; on the contrary, each major depressive episode I experience leaves me with greater understanding of and compassion for the suffering of others. All I’m saying is try to hold on, seek professional help, and survive.

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