And the record plays on and on and on

I felt all day yesterday the depression sneaking up on me again. It comes in a large wave. I fight it. I try and pretend it isn’t there. I put on my “happy” face for my friends and family. Then I go to the bathroom and puke. Yesterday my throat burned and as I swallowed and I swallowed hard I felt that burning move into my stomach. I sat down trying to give it up to God, to anyone. Just to someone. I ask myself, “Why?” Why now?

And there is never an answer. I felt as I grew more and more anxious and I tried to remember the wonderful weekend we had. The beautiful weather and focus on the memories made. Then I sit on the couch and hold my 2 year old daughter and I grab onto her for dear life. I kiss her forehead and thank God for her. Thank God for her sisters. Depression sucks. It steals me from them.

Eventually the panic sets in and I convince myself I am a horrible mother and wife and the list goes on and on. I feel embarrassed even typing this out so you ask why do you? Because I know these posts help others. I hear it. I do it because it helps me.

The weight of these things sit solely on my shoulders and I fight that damn darkness and my own inability to truly control any of it. I get so wrapped up in the darkness that I can’t barely see past it. I know that when there is light I am able to look at triggers and things that made the world seem so dark and hopefully react.

When you are in this frame of mind it is hard to imagine any other, but this blog is proof that tomorrow I will be okay and if not tomorrow the next day. That is why I write. I write it out because how does a writer deal with things? They write.

My worries are numerous, my OCD creates anxiety which in turn creates depression because I feel like I can’t be normal. The record just keeps playing on and on and on and on…..

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2 thoughts on “And the record plays on and on and on

  1. Shannon, you are amazing. I admire you. I look up to you. And, I want to be just like you when I grow up. Yep, the good and the bad. You know why? Because you are real. You are special. You are giving. And, you are brutally honest. I love that. I have a lot of friends. Honestly, though, sometimes I wonder where you have been all my life? Sound creepy? Good! I know you know me well enough to know what the hell I mean. πŸ™‚ So, girl, keep writing. Keep pouring your heart out. We all have days like this, but I know (and I see) you can overcome them.

    • Okay Melissa, you made me cry. I feel in no shape or form like I should be what anyone aspires to be like. Thank you for that. I appreciate it. I was so shocked to see you even read so that is the better part. πŸ˜‰ You write anywhere??

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