Really Real Blog

This is a Really Real Mental Health Post.

I’m kind of miserable.  

Not fully miserable because I don’t quite want to die at the moment, but just that in between.  Where I’m afraid I’m on my way down again. 

I don’t think I realized how much of a roller coaster this is, or how regularly it happens until I started writing about it.

And I feel like by now you have to be sick of hearing about it.  And at times I’m sick of living it.

But right now I’m not really sick of living, I’m just sick of living this particular part of my life.

I wish I could just go to the gym enough and it would be all better. Or take the right pills and it would be all better. Or say the right things to my therapist and it would be all better.

But that’s not how this works.

There may never be an all better, there’s just a not worse, a better than it was, a good enough.  And sometimes there’s just, not dead.

I feel like I’m doing the right things, but I’m sure I’m missing something.  I’m pushing myself, I’m getting out of the house, I’m letting myself rest, I’m making a to do list and checking things off, I’m going to the gym more days than not.

And the fact is, I’m still depressed.

I’m still walking through fog again, teary eyed and having a hard time functioning, having a hard time keeping myself from crawling under the covers every chance I get because the bed feels so warm and comfortable.
Sleep is filled with strange dreams, and it’s far from restful.  I wake up and just want to sleep more.  Getting out of bed is as hard as climbing a mountain.

I have to put on my armor to leave the house.  You know the armor I talk about, the wild clothes and the makeup and the earrings, the way I’ve learned to camouflage myself by standing out in the crowd.

I’m still leaving the house most days though.  I’m still making plans and trying to go and see people.  This time of year is so so hard and it’s not even that cold yet. 

I’m tired, and I’m sad, and I’m not really sure how to fight off the part of my brain that’s just done. 

Not done living, but just done.  I’m bored with it all.

Is 8pm too early for bed?