“So it goes.”

People take this as a positive thing. At least, I hope so, or there’s a shit ton of depressed people getting equally depressed tattoos. I guess I can see where they’re coming from. I see the hope people might find in knowing that life moves on. Bad things don’t stop us in our tracks, routine resumes, and somewhere along the way you find you can breathe again.

Maybe I haven’t had enough travesties in my life. Mmmm. I’m going to take that back because I’ve had my fair share. Maybe I haven’t had the right travesties, or I’m just strong enough that I manage to endure. Sometimes moving along feels like a curse though.

I have these moments, and they aren’t limited to one place or activity (because that would be avoidable). Arguably, they happen in quiet moments or during activities in which my mind can wander without it adversely affecting what I’m trying to do. Anyway, I have these moments in which I’m entirely conscious of time. I realize that I’m going to have to finish out the last twelve hours of the day. I’m going to have to live through tomorrow and the next day and the next. I’m going to have to be alive next week and in a few months, and next year is going to happen and I’m still going to be me and there’s no escaping existing. Sometimes I wish my life was a book that I could close and walk away from. I want to read other books and be other characters. Being me is just too hard. It’s suffocating.

I’m not bored. If I was just bored, I could do something else. I don’t know how to explain it correctly, but it’s difficult and almost a little scary, yet very disappointing and awful. Life can be awful even with the laughter and smiles and family and friends who love me. I want so desperately for someone to come along and save me. I want them to tell me step by step what I need to do. I want someone to make me not me.

But I don’t feel like I can tell anyone. Firstly, no one is built to be able to handle anything that sounds even remotely like a suicidal thought. People shut down, say something stupid, and become far too introspective to be any help to the person who’s struggling. Secondly, they immediately want to tell me how awesome I am. Like I don’t know this already.

Here me out. I’m fucking AMAZING. I know this. I could literally do anything I want. If I put my mind to it, I can accomplish it. I could speak any language I want. I could learn any instrument. There are very few things that I genuinely could not do if I put 100% effort into it. There are many things I don’t do because I haven’t put 100% effort into them. I know this, and that’s okay. I’m also smart, weirdly smart. I know a lot of things and I love learning new things. I have really great friends. I’m not a people person, but the friends I have are astounding. And my family. God. They are crazy supportive. I mean, they love the hell out of me to a level that’s a little weird and uncomfortable. I mean, I think I could do pretty much anything, but my parents think that times fifty. Sometimes I listen to my siblings talk about me and what they think I’m capable of, and I’m like, “That sounds like a really amazing person, who is she?” I’m SO blessed to have such a supportive family. I’m so blessed in countless upon countless ways.

I’m very sick though. Everyone might say depression and anxiety is a mental illness, but no one talks about it that way. I’m guilty of not talking about it that way. But I’m sick, and sometimes I have these really awful thoughts and struggles. It’s so frustrating because I know it’s irrational. Even as I’m thinking them, I know without hesitation that they are unfounded thoughts. I can’t stop having them though. They are my cross to bear. They are my struggle, and I don’t want to actually talk to you about them because I can’t explain it correctly to you which means you can’t help me because you don’t actually know the problem. We’re at a stalemate.

So, arguably, this is really depressing post for a blog called Smile. I had to write this though because I had one of the mind numbing, “oh my God, this is never going to end and I don’t think I can survive this,” thoughts today. But I also wanted to say that I keep imagining next week. I keep thinking about next year. It might look exactly like this year, but I can see a next year.

I keep fighting. I don’t think I have as much to fight for as other people, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have stuff to fight for. Living is hard. I feel like some people live caring a pebble that weighs an ounce. I feel like living for me means carrying a boulder on my head. I feel like I’m constantly being pressed down. I’m going to keep living though. I find it unbearably difficult, but I’m going to do it.

Maybe I’m one of the lucky ones. I can stand before you and without qualms tell you that I stand before you by the power of God. He’s the only reason I’m here today. He’s the reason I’m here tomorrow. I’m living off His strength not my own because His strength does not run out.


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