I have a lot to be excited about - the CDE exam will be coming up in the next month or two as exam dates are May and June. The completion of that test will close the door on the biggest goal I have ever set for myself. I can retire after that exam because I really have no other career ambitions (although I'm sure I'll think of some).
I also have a lot to look forward to - my niece was born mid-November, and she's the cutest, most precious thing - a ball of chubby cheeks, grabby hands, red hair, and adorableness. Watching her grow and having the opportunity to babysit her is the highlight of my week.
But I find myself deriving less and less joy out of my days. Getting out of bed is a chore. My alarm goes off at 6:15 in the morning, and I roll out of bed somewhere between 7:15 and 7:30 am. I'm supposed to be to work at 8:00 a.m. Thankfully (kind of), I also work a lot of overtime so modifying my hours to accommodate is accepted. I don't sleep much - if at all. There are nights I'll crawl into bed absolutely exhausted, nearly in tears from how tired I am, then toss and turn for the next 6-8 hours. A few times I've put myself to bed at 8pm, only to lay there and stare at the ceiling.
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Pills don't do much. Therapy hasn't helped in the past. Shutting off my brain, or at least putting it on sleep mode, is a near impossibility. Always moving. Always spinning.
Then there are those good days. Days where I laugh and smile and enjoy the world again. Days where I think, "Yeah. I can do this. I'm going to be ok." And I begin to believe I'm moving past the hump (that hump is me curled up in the fetal position). Maybe, I'm moving towards the sunshine and out of the storm.
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On the outside, no one would ever guess the games being played inside my head. No one would know. I have a feeling most people don't know. That's why I blog about it. It's important for people to recognize the power of depression. I don't always give it the credit it deserves. I brush it off with an, "I'm fine" and pretend to go about my ways. But it does hold power. When there's a shark attack, some people are afraid of the ocean for awhile. After the "all clear" signal has been given, and just as you dip your toe in to test the water again, it attacks with brute force. Depression pretends to have gone. But it hasn't. It's always lurking. Just waiting. To pull you under.
I fear reaching the point where I go under water without yelling for help.
Please be warned of strong language in the clip
"The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist." ~The Usual Suspects