Waves of Depression and Tides of Hope

Currently struggling against this tide of depression that is trying to drown me. I don’t want to wake up this way. I’m so tired. So, so tired.

It’s beautiful outside. I’m at the beach right now, but I don’t think the water is that warm. So, I’m sitting with my back against a palm tree. I found a semi-private spot with a bit of shade. Between the Señor Frog beach club and their massage area. The tide is coming in and the breeze is refreshing. Señor Frog has music pounding with the bass shaking the ground. The ocean sounds nice though. It does strike a little fear in me that I’m living by the sea. Tsunamis and hurricanes are scary. I am afraid of a lot of things that I never used to be scared of, but it doesn’t mean I will lock myself inside.

I am the harshest critic of myself. It’s like preempting anyone else’s judgment. The struggle that is most insidious at the moment is aligning my rational thoughts with my feelings. I’ve been feeling depressed. The classic symptoms: lethargy, lack of motivation, negative self-talk, fatigue.

Today depression came up again. Buoyed by shorter daylight filled hours, the negative number in my bank account, an unrelenting sick feeling of headache, stomach pain, and mainly my brain and body reverting to default state. Restlessness running through my veins, confusion resulting when fatigue meets it.

I’ve been accompanied constantly by a pit in my stomach. I don’t know why now, but it’s here and hanging around even with long walks and work and meetings and distracting myself with designing and watching TV. It just is not shaking.

It has been such a chronic issue in my life, some of it since I was a little girl. It’s entwined with my identity. I know it is not who I am, not really or at least not entirely, but I also wonder sometimes if I know who I am without it.

Also experiencing the rising tide of fears. I want to do things like go running, but I’m afraid. It doesn’t make sense. It’s like I don’t truly believe I can do it or that I even deserve it. It is a course of action I need to take if I ever want to continue healing. I have to connect with my body and become healthy by treating it well. It’s a process, I know, but it isn’t easy.

I am going to keep trying, without expectations of how it—this journey of managing my traumas and disorders and this path of healing—will unfold and certainly without preconceived notions of where these steps will lead me.