Sometimes I feel lost.
I wake up, and I simply don’t know how to spend my day. I have no forward momentum. No belief in my ability to get anything done.
I wake up on days like these as an empty vessel. I don’t feel whole. I feel like a visitor in my life, as someone with no vested interests in my outcomes.
Except of course I’m not a visitor, and of course, I have a vested interest.
I see myself stagnant, standing still, and I want to scream in my ear. I want to force myself to do something. Do anything. And yet I can’t figure out what that anything is.
I see days wasting away turning into weeks turning into months and I wonder if this is the way a life is supposed to be lived. There’s supposed to be more. There’s supposed to be an actor in the middle of my life, and that is supposed to be me.
I see things falling apart… toys being left on the floor, dishes in the sink, goals falling by the wayside. And I wonder where is the director. Who is in charge of this life?
It’s not easy on days like these. I find I have two choices. I can sit here and question and wonder and fall deeper and deeper into despondency. Or I can fight back.
Depression wants me to sit and fester. It’s telling me nothing is worth doing. It’s telling me I’ll fail anyway. It’s telling me that this is the best that I can do. That I’m broken. That my life will amount to nothing because I am nothing.
But that’s depression. That’s the illness.
That is not me.
I am the other voice. The much quieter voice. The timid one in the corner reminding me that all I have to do is something. Go put some dishes away. Read a book. Prepare a meal. Just do something.
Because something is the antidote to nothing.
And I’m reminded at this point that every moment is a question. Who will I listen to? Will I let depression lie to me? Or will I push it to the side and make a small step?
I wish it were a one time decision. Something I could decide upon and then pack away. But history tells m this isn’t true. It’s a constant choice.
I pray for the strength to make the right one. I pray for the strength to listen to myself rather than to the disease. I hope one day this decision will be easier, but I accept that today it is not. And so today I must fight. I must remember that I am worth it.
I must move forward.
Depression photo available from Shutterstock