Did you wake up happy this morning?
I did. Bit of a shocker.
Years of suffering from manic depression have made even the simplest things seem like insurmountable obstacles at times.
Getting out of bed to use the toilet was like being asked to walk on broken glass.
Getting dressed would be like translating the works of Mao Tse-Tung from the original Manadarin.
Depression is not understood by anyone who has not experienced it. It is NOT feeling a bit “down”. Nor is it something you can just “snap” out of…
Try and imagine that all of a sudden you have had a ton of wet sand dumped on you.
You cannot move, you can barely breathe. The harder you try to escape from under it the more exhausted you become until you have no choice but to sleep. And dreams are all you have left because in your dreams you can move and breathe again. You can dream that you are happy.
But then you wake up. Sometimes a lot of the sand has gone, sometimes it’s doubled in size.
Pills can help (sometimes). Counselling can help (sometimes).
And sometimes, but just sometimes, something will wash the sand away and you can walk on the beach in the sunshine again. But the sand will always be between the butt-cheeks of your mind somewhere… And you’ll never be completely confident you won’t wake up covered by it again.
All you can do is rejoice the days it’s gone and hope it never returns.