They’re the only ones who really know just how bad it got.
They saw everything.
I’m talking about depression. I know it’s a subject that make many people uncomfortable, but it is what it is. And we have to be able to talk about it.
Recently I’ve started a new chapter of my life: I ended therapy and started studying full time (+50% extra this semester). I’ve done a few things that often is part of starting over; I cleared out my wardrobe, rearranged my kitchen, passed on things I no longer use. I would have rearranged my whole room if that was possible.
What I really wanted to do was move to a new place.
Because these walls are the ones I was stuck in when I was too sick, too exhausted, too depressed to do anything.
It’s the same bed I spend too many hours doing nothing in.
It’s the same shower I would never enter, because it’s just to hard.
It’s the same kitchen counters that would build up mountains of dishes I couldn’t manage to clean.
It’s exactly the same place. But I don’t want to be the same person anymore.
So when I want to spend an extra hour in bed, or don’t feel like doing anything but watch tv for a while, I get scared I’ve regressed. Because I used to do those things when I was sick.
When in reality I’m tired because I spend all day at uni, or because I need a break from time to time – which is completely normal and necessary.
So for a while, I desperately wanted to escape this place rather than work through what’s happening here.
It’s understandable that I don’t want to get depressed again (nobody wants that!), but I have to accept that somethings are out of my control, and remember the tools I’ve learned to deal with difficult feelings.
The fear of returning to a dark place is natural, but fueling the fear doesn’t add value to my life. Taking the time to rest or an extra hour of sleep do. So while I can’t make the fear go away, and I can focus on the things that makes my life better.
I was fooling myself when I thought moving into a new apartment would fix everything. Because I’d still be bringing all my old (physical and mental) baggage.
Finding the perfect balance between working hard and recovering is normal, and it’s something everyone struggles with. For periods being out of balance is what happens. Recognising it and gently pushing yourself in the right direction is part of being healthy. Finding this difficult is okay.
Telling myself this had helped me feel at home in my own home again.
What do you tell yourself when your life is out of balance?