Almost a year since twilight set in and settled round my shoulders, soon turning my world a shade of pitch black I couldn’t bare. Yet I am still here. Huzzah!
My Mom’s birthday is November 21st and last year my heavy depression coupled with an unbearable sense of grief drove me to near madness. I spiraled down deep into depths of hopelessness I never thought possible.
Those dark days led me to self harm, suicidal thoughts, and rock bottom levels of self loathing. I cried rivers and affected a zombie-like 1000 mile stare. I’ve never felt so lost.
Checking into the psychiatric ward was the best thing I could have done. I think it saved my life. I realized the therapy I was receiving as an out patient wasn’t enough and even though I didn’t think I deserved help I managed to force myself to seek it.
Staring down the barrel of the anniversary of my breakdown is confusing to say the least. On one hand I am feeling stronger and am proud of how far I’ve come, on the other I fear the triggers from last year will seep back in and rob me of the light once again.
The important thing is I’m still here. I’m still fighting. So bring it on fate! If I’m destined to keep slaying the dragons of mental illness I will with all the strength I can muster. And should I falter again sometime in the future, so be it, I will just keep getting up again and again until the last beast is slain.