It's happening again...

The darkness.

It is coming.

I hate that I spend all my time running from everything and then boom. I run right back into it.

The darkness comes when you least expect it. It creeps in and then suddenly you are covered again.

I just keep telling myself that it isn't as bad as last time.....yet.... I am still getting out of bed...

It might be at 11am again.... But at least I am getting out of bed.

See, depression is a balancing act.

It is a fine line between being proud of yourself for the small things and yet finding energy to push yourself further up.

I know that I can't stay here. I know that I have to fight to be better... I know I need to wake up and get out of the house and move around and be active. I know these things. And sometimes knowing them makes me hate myself.

I know what I have to do, but I still don't do it. I still don't get out of bed early. I still don't eat the right foods, I still don't leave the house.

I know what I should do to avoid falling in the hole again... But the darkness drains my energy.

And sleeping is the best way to forget that I miss my husband. Or that I haven't spoken to him in over a month... Or that I am completely alone on this dumb stupid rock of an island. Or that we are having car problems and I don't know what to do because my husband is gone and they are way too big of decisions to make without him. I just want to pretend that none of it exists.

So I sleep. And watch tv. And crochet. And order pizza.

Totally normal reaction to all the crap around me.

Except for me.

These are my bad reactions. These are my warning signs. These are things that I avoid...

But I don't have energy to fight the darkness right now. I just don't.

And to be honest, that scares me.

I don't want to be where I was again. I don't want to be so paralyzed by this disease that I cannot do anything.

It is hard not to hate yourself for feeling this way. It is hard not to feel like a failure.

And I cannot let myself feel like a failure. Because when I feel like a failure, that is when the darkness takes over.

So I am praising myself for the small things... Like taking a shower, or a romantic bath, or feeding myself more than once a day, or texting someone back, or getting out of bed...

I have to be proud of the small things.

And I have to remember that I am not fighting myself.

This is a disease.

It is not something that I caused. It is not something that I control. It is not something that I can just make stop.

It is a disease. There is something wrong in my brain.

This is not a choice I made.

This is a disease.

I am fighting a disease.

Love, Kiki