The hard one.

It sneaks up on you and then suddenly, it hits you across your head.

Depression is a bitch.

You have a perfect life…well, to the outsiders. What they don’t see is the internal struggle for happiness going on inside you at all times.

You can’t really explain it, you just know that you aren’t you. You’re in a fog, fighting to be free.
It’s kind of funny. It’s so en vogue to say “I’m SOOO depressed” but the people saying that have no idea. They don’t get how difficult it is to get out of bed and function. They don’t understand the rage and outbursts that occur more frequently as the days go by. Or the fact that the slightest thing can set off a crying attack.

So do “x”, do “y”, do “z” they say. Don’t you think it’s been tried? Or you hear “you should really get off those meds” so you do and 6 months later, you’re back to wanting to run.

But run where? You have no where to go.

So you shop, but that just makes you feel worse because what if you go broke? What’s going to be said to you the next time a budget is done? Oh my God, I don’t want to turn into one of those hoarders!

So then you want to cry out, to ask for help…but the help you really need isn’t there. And the people you’ve relied on for so long are tired of you. And every word you say gets turned against you, so you learn to just shut up.

Then you slap on a facade. Pretend everything is hunky-dory while you’re slowly drifting away.
The thoughts are just flowing. “Oh dear, you’re so fat.” “Jesus, get off your ass and do something!” “Your children are suffering because you are the laziest person alive!” “What we’re you thinking? You can’t do this!” And on and on and on.

And you can’t shut them off.

And you find yourself about to lose it.

It’s a never ending cycle and you want to get off. But this is a ride that never stops. So you just keep trying to maintain that perfect life facade you’ve gotten so good at but you realize that it’s only a matter of time before the cracks start to appearing.

“Your life is perfect” they say.

Oh, if they only knew.

*I’m okay. Just struggling.


Pass the happy pills

Do you ever get to that point in your life when you just don’t feel up to, well, anything?

I’m very good at faking it. Very good at pretending that everything is just perfect, but it’s not. Being home all day, EVERY day with the kids is more draining than anyone imagines. But if I complain, all I get is “well, you could just go to work”.

Thanks for your support.

I don’t work because the cost of daycare would negate any sort of income I would bring in. I don’t work because I honestly feel like I can give my children a better education than the public school. I don’t work because I actually love being with my children.

But it’s difficult. Really REALLY difficult. And not being able to say that just makes it worse.

If I cry, shout, withdraw, show ANY sort of weakness then I feel like it’s just another bullet point on the ever growing list of “Why Kelley Should Make Money”.

Money that we don’t need (this should be stressed).

I just need someone who believes in me. It’s a constant uphill battle. I want to be able to say that I’ve had an absolutely horrible day without being told that being home isn’t my only option. I GET IT, BUT IT’S NOT WHAT I WANT. What I want is to be able to bitch and complain like everyone else gets to do when they’ve had a rotten day. You get to do it…can’t I have a day every now and then without the reminder attached? Jesus!

I’m feeling over-whelmed and unappreciated, not a good combination.

I get it…I have a fantastic life. But it’s not perfect. And if I’m not allowed to say anything negative about it, I’m going to go absolutely bat-shit crazy.

So…how about that happy blog to get me restarted in this new year? Happier posts to come, I swear.