I was cruising right along, getting things accomplished, taking steps to get healthier and then BAM! I got sideswiped by my old frenemy, Depression. It sneaks up pretty slowly, actually, with little whispers telling you to skip that walk, it’s not doing anything anyway, until it seems like you’re suddenly engulfed in this pit.

My pit usually comes along with a giant mess, because it is way too much effort to clean up after myself. It also comes with an inability to function and a desire to hide from the world. I was once described as being high-functioning when depressed, because I am usually (but not always) able to continue working. But the truth is I don’t know how much I’m actually working, I think it’s more that I am able to force myself out of bed and into the office. But there are those days that I can’t force myself out of bed.

I’m still in the pit, or maybe I’m at the edge of the pit, right where I can fall back in or move away to safety, depending which way the wind blows? Today was the first day that I was able to focus enough to read, let alone work on a blog post (at least I had blogged ahead to this point). I also started cleaning up the mess surrounding myself. I have a long way to go, but I think I’m moving in the right direction.

I’m grateful that I generally only descend into the pit for short periods of time. I mean, the depression is always there, below the surface, but most of the time I’m able to generally enjoy my life. The slips into the pit are pretty intense, it takes me about 3-5 days of a slow slide into them, and then I usually stay there for only a day or so (sometimes up to a week or more), before slowly crawling out again.

Finding people in my life who understand has definitely helped as well. My family is less than supportive, tending to either ignore or be oblivious to the signs that are so obvious once I hit rock bottom. I have literally been told by someone very close to me that depression doesn’t exist and people who claim to be depressed just need to get over it. I was also told to “never say something like that to me again” when I tried to explain to a family member what I was going through during a dark time when I just prayed every night to not wake up in the morning. So I learned to bottle it up. It’s therapeutic to share it with people who get it though.