I have been going back and forth between whether or not I wanted to continue with this blog, considering I'm not losing weight currently. I decided I would continue to write because I need an outlet, and I'm fighting an uphill battle and I need not write for others but for myself.
It's an embarrassing thing to admit, when you're fighting something much bigger than yourself and you've asked for help and received it; and yet you're not getting better. It's a hard, and lonely life when you're depressed, which I am.
I have existed in my life for the last two years under the cloud of depression, and the storm has not subsided. I use the word exist, because I do not live, I do not participate. I merely am. It is a sad, but true thing to say. I am not an active member of my life, due to my disease, and I'm not sure when I will become one again. Depression is different for all different people, and it affects them in different ways. Much like snowflakes, there is not one person with depression who is exactly like the other. For me, depression makes me forget.
It makes me forget if I brushed my teeth this morning, or where I put my sweater. It makes me forget that I left my purse in the kitchen, while I'm tearing apart the living room. I can't remember what day of the week it is, and whether or not I called back my dad. The things I'd like to forget take over my mind, and I cannot remember where my keys are. It doesn't just make me forget material things, it makes me forget all things. It makes me forget how good it feels to laugh, and the sound of her tinkling bell voice. I cannot remember how good his arms feel when he hugs me, and how soft my cat's fur is. Depression makes me lose track of when the last meal was that I had, and who told me a story. It makes me forget what love feels like, even when it's all around me.
I am living in a hell that seems to have no end in sight, but I fight every day because of the love and support of my friends and family. I keep going because I cannot leave them behind; I would miss them and they would miss me.
Where depression makes me forget who I am, they do not. And for that I am eternally grateful.
