Again

I want to wear you again

Show up at 19 unexpected, but then

Sensibilities persist

Some kind of rules must exist

Can’t go on feeling like this

I see what you don’t

Know who you are, but you won’t

Roll the di, roll the dice

Give it up, lose the lie

Don’t wanna feel what you do

Don’t wanna do what you should

Be

Cause

You know that I’m right

Don’t wanna feel that inside

So I go home alone

Wipe all trace from phone

Not gonna wear you again

Because you’d rather pretend

Don’t wanna do what you should

Don’t wanna feel what you do

Give it up, lose the lie

Roll the di roll the dice

Cause I wanna wear you again

A random text now and then

Advertisements

App Life

I recently had one of those patches of life where it felt as if everyone in my life had lost their damn minds. I’m a firm believer in the idea that if everyone around you is crazy then maybe you’re to blame so I decided that maybe I should take some personal time to regroup. I deactivated or deleted all of my social media accounts and apps. Even the dating ones. I deleted everyone that I don’t regularly keep in touch with from my contacts on my phone and purged any conversations that haven’t happened in 2017. I can’t scroll through memes on Instagram or judge people from high school that I haven’t seen in person in over a decade or bored text guys that I don’t really care about. The horror!

I’ve actually found myself getting way more done, being less moody and more content. I probably have to credit some of that to the Chinese Herbs that my acupuncturist gave me (so long Damp Heat!) but that’s a whole other post. With so much focus and nothing to distract me I have decided to try downloading the WordPress app so that I could conveniently channel my creativity. As “first world problem” as it is, I hate booting up my laptop and logging in every time inspiration strikes so I’m hoping that by having it on my phone I will be more inclined to throw some thoughts out for my zero followers. Prepare for text-like messages with poor spelling and no commas! That is, until I cave and download Tinder again. Or until people put their crazy away. 

Forward

Ok

First of all, Fuck 5am club. I am not a leap out of bed and accomplish shit type of person. I am a lounge in my warm bed and enjoy the sunshine trickling in person. I’m finally good with that.

Second of all, I’m here.

Rereading some of my posts from over the summer and marveling at how far I have come. I have an amazing counselor who really stepped up and pulled me through all of the shit that I didn’t know how to maneuver. Wonderful friends who reminded me of who I used to be, who I was capable of being. My family to cushion me while I fell. I will always give credit where it is due, and without these people I don’t know if I would have bothered to do the work. But it was me who did the work and I need to acknowledge that. I was in the worst depression of possibly my whole life and showering felt like the hardest fucking thing on earth, but I showered. I went to see my counselor even though I knew he was going to make me face myself. I made decisions that I didn’t feel capable of making. And even though it was messy at times, I kept my two daughters safe, fed and moving forward. Me. I did that.

I am having more and more moments of AHA! THERE SHE IS! That girl who was happy and confident. Who knew exactly who she was and what she brought to the table. She’s coming back a little bit at a time and it’s like seeing a forgotten friend and realizing just how much you’ve missed them. I’m not sure exactly when she left but PMDD, a shit relationship and spending too much time with negative people drove her into hiding. But she’s here again and I plan to nurture her and honour her until we are melded together and can never be separated again. There’s still work to be done!

So I’m lounging in bed, in the sunshine. I’m writing and painting. I’m listening to strong music made by people I admire. I’m surrounding myself with people, places, smells and things that spark a fire in me. I’m moving forward.

PS

Here’s today’s theme song -Fuck With Myself

Surrender Sweetly

I have depression. Or at least sometimes I do. For the most part I have gotten really good at ignoring it and pretending that I am powering through life, so much so that most people would never guess that I am often crippled with anxiety and need to spend entire afternoons in bed because that feels safe. Lately even that hasn’t felt so safe and on Tuesday I emailed my counselor and texted my mom. Depression was refusing to be ignored any longer and I knew I needed backup.

I usually use Facebook as a way of detaching from real life and distracting myself from my depression. I unfollowed all of my friends and have my entire news feed flooding with positivity from Abraham Hicks, Louise Hay, Deepok Chopra and a few lesser known but highly inspirational people who post mantras, quotes and encouragement on a regular basis. When I need a break from myself I scroll through until I feel better. The general theme of all of these memes and bits of wisdom is to focus on the good feeling thoughts. Find the happiness in any moment and stay there.

The problem with depression is it lies. It tells you that your friend didn’t text you back right away because she doesn’t really like you. The guy you’re seeing is making up excuses not to be available. You are messing up your children because you can’t just be normal and of course all of these things are happening because you are ugly and useless. Once depression gets some momentum, it begins to seem as if the world would be a better place without you and there really isn’t any happiness to be found in that moment. There isn’t a mantra on earth that will unravel that pain.

*Pause to say that if you are having the slightest thoughts towards suicide, even a fleeting “it would be so much easier if I was gone” passing through your brain, please open another browser window and Google suicide hotlines in your area. Right now. 

I used to give my depression a power boost by adding guilt to the mix.

My children are healthy. I should be happy.

I live in one of the safest and most beautiful places on earth. I should be happy.

I have food, clothing and shelter. I should be happy.

I have what so many others only dream of so why the fuck can I not just be happy?!?!

As you can probably imagine, this type of thinking is like giving depression steroids. It’s now bigger and stronger than ever and prone to Hulk like outbursts of roid rage. Well done, Sharon. You’re feeding the beast instead of doing all of the loving, self care things you know you are supposed to. You spend half your time reading blogs and articles on how to battle depression and when the time comes, what do you do? You creep behind enemy lines and feed the depression that is trying to destroy you. Traitor. Clearly you are ugly and useless and the world would be a better place without you. *Lather, rinse, repeat*

 

It’s ok to fall apart. It’s ok to surrender to your sadness and spend some time curled up on your couch, surrounded by used tissues and all of your regrets. It’s ok if the shiny mantras about how beautiful life is make you want to vomit. Maybe today your mantra is “This will pass”.

People

The world is full of beautiful people. Interesting people with safe eyes and big bank accounts. Fun people who make me feel alive. People with passion and depth and ideas flowing through them. Sexy people who know how to pull my hair and make me forget. So many people and I only want one. One single person.

Release

I can’t quite put it into words and I’m not sure yet that I want to but I am experiencing a great but terrifying release. At times it feels as if I am on the verge of mental collapse, if I’m being honest. I’m ready to quit my job and meander barefoot through the streets, talking to people or animals or whatever spirits are about looking for a good conversation. I am so completely detached from the things that most people feel are important. At the same time, I just want to blend in with the scenery and go unnoticed. I have no interest in becoming a topic of conversation or trying to convince others that I am actually onto something good. So I struggle to find that magical balance between letting go of reality and still maneuvering it effectively. Part of this is surely the PMDD talking but the feeling of being done is still very much the theme of my life right now. I feel as if I am fading away. I’ve been hyper focused on things like what songs I would want played at my funeral, what poems shared, what words do I want the girls to carry from me. Not because I am eager to go, but because I feel like that’s what is happening. Like it won’t matter if I spend this summer on the beach collecting sunshine and memories because I won’t be around to deal with the consequences.