Every time I think of Depression—how to handle it, how to get ahead of it, how to be stronger, more productive, less lethargic, more grounded, less apathetic—the word insidious comes to mind. When you’ve gone through one too many funks, you learn to recognize the signs, and by that I mean to say, you learn that there are NO signs. Nada. Zippo. Zilch.
It sneaks under your guard like poisonous gas and you don’t know it until you’re trapped in a sinkhole and you’re blind in the dark and there’s no way to crawl out. Holding on to your sanity, trying to find reasons why to even care about anything at all—becomes a constant battle. A never-ending battle against faceless monsters without any weapons at all.
I’ve been struggling for a while now to get back to reading, to blogging, to posting about books on Instagram, to origami—to get back to all the things I used to actually like to do and I keep falling down, unable to find my way back to being Me again. I stopped journaling even, the one thing other than reading that could always help me.
So during my funk, all I could do was get through day by day. Just endure and survive. The only way out is through, right? The one thing that helped me escape the nothingness, the apathy was re-reading my favorite books, the In Death series by J.D. Robb. Eve Dallas and Roarke can always give me the strength to keep getting back up and going on.
I’m trying again, fingers crossed that it sticks this time.
To everyone struggling out there, don’t give up. Hang in there.
Stay tuned.
∼Lyn