Depression snuck up on me this past month.
I have a lot of good things going for me, life is progressing, I'm working hard and also trying to buy a place to live. So on paper, life's looking up. But internally, I'm not. Why?
Do you know that the hardest part of feeling like I'm drowning is the guilt that I shouldn't be in the first place? "Counting my blessings" feels like a mockery when I can't will myself out of bed, when I haven't run more than a mile in a month, when I let an entire day go by from my 11x14 bedroom, when my eating habits scare me, when I make plans with friends and back out on them, when I'm unresponsive to everyone's texts, when I miss the family group chat just to hide away. I should also add that I was physically sick this month too, and for one week I was scared I had the delta variant of COVID-19 which brought up anxieties about being sick that I didn't even know were dormant. Thankfully I tested negative, but the toll on my emotional health had already been paid.