I’ve found that when I’m going through difficult times my brain doesn’t do “happy.” A lack of positive emotions for several days on end often leads to feeling hopeless and helpless, which I usually take as truth rather than symptoms of depression. The only relief I’ve managed to find is through drinking (which may explain why so many of my ancestors were alcoholics).
I just wanted to talk about this because it’s a common trap I fall into around stressful events (tax season, anniversaries of deaths, significant loss of income etc.), and I’m just NOW realizing how it repetitively plays out after struggling with this issue for decades.
I want to make a renewed effort to see my anxiety disorder for what it is; a mental illness that magnifies already difficult, stressful times. And when my illness lies and tells me that life is impossible, that I am too weak to handle it, or that I will never feel okay again, I will make an effort to look back at this time and remember that while I can’t help that I live with mental illnesses, I CAN be more vigilant about recognizing the symptoms and do my best to ride it out.
Life proves over and over; there WILL be good times again. There will. And the guarantee of that is worth crawling through your hell for, I promise.
