Who You Are

I messed up. This week, I messed up big time. You see, there are days where nothing goes right and everything goes to Hell. There are moments where you just lose it, I mean completely lose it. Then there are weeks. This was one of those weeks. I got lazy. I stopped being careful. I knew that I had these triggers, but I thought that I was okay, I thought that I was fixed. Silly me. I stopped checking to make sure that I wasn't dreaming, and in the process I lost myself again. I started slipping and I didn't notice. I didn't notice until it was too late. I acted on it and those triggers, well, I let them affect me. I sat in my bed with tears streaming down my face, knowing that I had just messed up and I knew that I was digging myself back into a hole. So, I sat there and cried as I prepared myself for the upcoming battle of climbing back out.

The next day, I called someone who had been a saving grace during my last depressive episode. I called her and she listened as I cried, she listened as I told her how I had messed up, and she listened as I told her that I was too scared and tired to pick myself back up. And then, she talked. She told me that she was there, she told me that I had to just do it. She told me that I needed to get in for help. She compared it to when an alcoholic messes up. How they have to get themselves back to meetings and get back on track. I hadn't ever thought about it in that way. So, I went to my meeting of sorts-- counseling. It isn't fun or enjoyable to sit in an uncomfortable chair all vulnerable and weak. It just isn't. I haven't climbed all the way out. I haven't climbed out at all yet-- I've only had the time to set up the ladder to help me out. I didn't think it would be this hard-- I'd forgotten how hard it had been to the last time. I think this time might be harder. Because just like good old Jessie J., I keep asking myself  why am I doing this to myself? Losing my mind on a tiny error, I nearly left the real me on the shelf. I nearly lost myself again, but luckily I saw it before it got to the point of no return. I caught it before I hit rock bottom-- instead I'm just halfway to rock bottom! But I caught it. And that's the important part.

It isn't easy to admit defeat. It isn't easy to admit that you messed up, it just isn't. It doesn't get easier. But, life gets better, things get happier, and you get the support you need to fight it off. I'm not whole again, not by a long shot. It's going to take a lot of work. But in the end, it's worth it.