The day I get to take a shit without a toddler throwing a tantrum at the bathroom door and/or my other kid stomping around in the potty room with me asking, “Mommy, what are you doing?” will be the day I get hit by a speeding bus.
Current Mood:
Alarmed
Last night I decided to go dancing for the first time in, well, awhile. I’ve been out twice in the last few weeks, and it’s been a real struggle for me to get myself to be social.
I came home fighting tears, and I have no real explanation as to why. I mean, I had a lot of really great dances. My friends were happy to see me, and I was grateful to see them again.
But I have a theory.
Seeing people in a social setting and knowing that they don’t fight the constant battle of depression that I deal with every single day saddens me. Not because I wish my mental disorder on anyone else, but because I wish, wish so badly that I could be “normal”.
I have been this way my whole life. As a child, I used to cry myself to sleep because I just didn’t fit in. I wanted so badly to be someone else, and I hated myself. Even then. Gosh, it’s so freaking sad.
Now, don’t get me wrong. We all have our own constant battles, and dammit, I wouldn’t want to take on someone else’s wounds… it just that holy shit, major depression, postpartum depression, and all of the depression that has always haunted me is a real fucking bitch.
Please tell me I’m not alone in the world. What battle(s) do you fight?
Current Mood:
Sad