For those used to writing about the weight of depression, happiness seems hard to define as something solid.
Limits. Anybody else measure their limits completely and utterly wrong sometimes? Maybe this will help in deciding whether it’s worth one more hour, or whether it’s time for a break.
When you’re in a good space it’s important to enjoy it. You don’t want to be thinking about “when am I gonna next feel like the worst” all of the time. But, but but but… it is important to utilise some of your productive clarity time to help out future-not-okay-you.
I just wanted to check in with you all, and let you know I’m still here, and yes, I’m a little depressed but I’m fully functioning and not in any danger of disappearing anytime soon.
And by no means has ‘recovery’ been perfect. I managed to get myself into a nightmarish relationship straight afterwards, was further emotionally traumatised by Will.. uhh I mean Bill, and ended up quitting my whole life in Oxford. But, at no point since Recovery Day no.1 did I reach the lowest ever again. Why?
Because I knew I could fucking handle it.
And then, you have one of those days where, peace is
It’s small and quiet and unobtrusive but it’s powerful. Taking up the spaces that are usually raging, and the cracks that are empty and crumbling. It’s not even silence, more a peach wash of warmth. Faintly glowing in the background of a good day.
Hitting rock bottom is a strange thing. Because sometimes you’re certain you’ve hit it, and then something else happens and you go “oooh, no. Now I’ve hit it.” or you might not even realise you’re at rock bottom at the time of rock-bottoming. It’s only when you’re looking back and go “ah, okay. That time […]