“You wake up every morning to fight the demons that left you so tired the night before, and that, my love, is bravery.”
I think I remember my first depressive episode happening in my early 20’s. I had gone through so much already at that age that honestly I’m not surprised I didn’t end up in a long term hospital because I lost my shit (please excuse my language, I come from a very blunt family so I feel like if I can’t be myself in my blog, if I can’t write it like I think it, it will be difficult to get to know me, so I embrace who I am.) I however of course was still majorly depressed, so I did what I normally now do and sleep, I slept what felt like days. At the time however I already had my first daughter and it was just her and I against the world. I vaguely remember her and I sleeping a lot, I remember getting up for work everyday, making sure she ate and was clean and then, it was like my mind turned off, I would end up sleeping with her for hours. Till this day I feel guilty and it breaks my heart to know that in some way or another she is affected by it. However being so young and coming from a family that knew, nor taught anything about mental illness, I was so hard on myself, I retraced step by step every single thing I thought I did wrong or anytime I hurt a family member with an outburst (caused from keeping quiet so I wouldn’t upset anyone.) I didn’t just retrace it but I would beat myself up about it. I blamed myself for people who walked all over me and left me to pick up the pieces. I was and still am my worst critic. I am now learning however that I can’t continue to make excuses and blame myself for a handful of people that have chosen to walk out of my life. I also need to let go of the idea that when I hit a depressive state, I’m being a horrible mother, I hope my kids understand that on some days Mommy only did her best because her mind was so engulfed in darkness that in that moment that’s all she could give.