Tonight’s a short post, because I’ve been working until late night on my dissertation that I’ve spent most of the day stressing out about. People say that episodes of depression are when a fog comes down, it’s thick and covers everything. For me, that’s true, everything around me feels blurred and not quite real. I’m still there, getting on with life, talking to people but part of my mind isn’t there, it’s kind of like being underwater. So many clichés, I know, but unlike my old creative writing lecturers I like clichés. I like them because that’s how real people speak and think and feel. I never got them to agree with me on that, but still.
I get the feeling that people think I’m rude sometimes or uninterested. I’m not. Those people usually don’t know what it’s like to fight with your own head. To worry about people not wanting to hire you because of stigma. To desperately hope you seem ‘normal’. People have judged me for a long time and there are only so many people that I really let in to the deepest parts, but I’m always open about this illness, because it is a PART of me, it is not who I am.
There is so much stress around me right now and there is going to be so much change that I am struggling, physically and mentally. Good things still happen, and good people are still near but I’m only human. Hazy days happen whether I like them or not. It takes a while but eventually things are less blurry and I feel less sad.
I keep reminding myself that I am not weak because of this. It’s hard but I have people around me who help along the way. I am strong, I’m a fighter and I work hard. I guess the fuzzy part of my brain on days like this is just another part of this fighting and another sign of how strong I can be when I need to be.