Beauty In Depression

You know, everyone has bad days. Toddlers, teenagers, young adults, and senior citizens. Some people bring it upon themselves and others well, maybe they are just unlucky. I have had a series of bad days lately, but I don’t know if I am the cause of mine or if I am one of the unlucky ones. I never put the blame on my depression because I do not want that to define me. I want to be the one who surpasses that. However, not letting the depression define me is one of the hardest challenges I’ve had to face thus far. Despite the battle, I’ve found that there is something beautiful about depression. Do you know how difficult it is for your mother to notice that you’ve been in a depressive drought before you do? You may or you may not have experienced this before, but my mother looked at me with worry in her eyes and asked if I had been doing ok. Boom, just like that she noticed. Moms always know! I told her yeah because well… I thought I was doing ok. It wasn’t until I realized that I was stuck in bed for more than two days, hadn’t taken a shower and called off of work claiming that I was sick. I am sick though. My skin is pale, there are deep circles under my eyes, constant stomach aches, nightmares, and too much sleeping or not enough sleeping (my body can’t decide). All of what I am dealing with is a sickness because it is allowing me to lie in my bed and accomplish absolutely nothing, unless you count the entire bag of pretzels and popcorn I ate while watching my favorite Netflix series. Is all of what I’m experiencing in my head though? Is there beauty in depression? I guess that is up to me to figure out right? Where the beauty lies? How do I tell myself mind over matter when my mind is telling me nothing matters? I don’t want to be around anyone and I certainly do not want to strike up a conversation because I destroyed my poker face with my last blog. I don’t want to go outside and breathe fresh air. So I’m letting you all feel my pain. It’s a mess I know, but it’s my mess that I want to clean up. There is nothing beautiful about it. Is it pretty… that I haven’t showered, pretty that all I have eaten is junk food multiple days in a row? Gorgeous right? Very Beautiful? Smoking Hot? (or do people not say that anymore). Please don’t mistake my rant as negativity because that is not at all what it is. It is simply me getting my feelings off of my chest which is something I am not used to doing yet so bear with me. I want to wake up on my bad days and still have the drive to function like a normal person. This includes not enjoying rotting under my thirty pillows. Wait. On second thought, one thing that I have noticed is that I do this a lot less often than I used to. I am going to take pride in how I am coping because it’s way better than how I used to. I don’t cut anymore. I don’t drink myself to sleep anymore. Who am I kidding? I am proud of how I cope because that is a step in the right direction. So what if I lay in bed for a couple of days at a time. That will disappear just like the rest of my old habits did. So yeah, damn right I’m smoking hot because there is beauty in depression and I am still searching for mine. Plus I am not fighting this battle alone. You are right alongside me; helping me you just didn’t know it yet.