i

am making myself write on sundays and saturdays. i am typing words onto a google document for at least fifteen minutes. any words at all. sometimes i just come to type and i can’t seem to put anything on here that feels remotely interesting or appropriate. i will word vomit and i read it and i hate it. like hate it. i’m sure others feel this too. and now i’m afraid i am completely backlogged. thus far we have been to greece which was a one-of-a-kind-cross-off-of-our-bucketlist vacation. we loved it all. it was pure magic. the sunsets, the food, the company was all just insanely beautiful. and then there was a montana trip for the nature and now i am back at work and in a recovery period from my realization that i was depressed. i came to this realization while in greece. it was mild, i think. but what my depression looked like was difficulty waking up and having this sensation of a million knots in my body that i just couldn’t seem to untie. i have had this since dad passed. waking up has been terrible. i assumed it was me being tired, stressed, fatigued, a simple malaise. it was not. it was in fact depression. i found myself on this wonderful vacation dreading waking up and that is when i realized it. i am fucking depressed. i immediately went back to therapy and unraveled sooooo many pieces of me and this grief i am currently coexisting with that i think i’m okay. and i am back on doing things that make me feel good such as consistently exercising and consistently trying to write every day even if they’re just a jumble of words that make no sense whatsoever. my plan is that eventually they’ll start making sense. or at least that’s what i’m hoping. and i take every day as it is, just moment by moment in hopes of figuring out what works and what doesn’t. so far, so good. i think realizing the depression was present and having therapy to help me confront it rather than unintentionally ignoring it has helped to almost shake it loose. i’ll write more on that later. but also it’s not lost on me that this depression has somehow crept up on me despite every other week therapy, despite being told i am grieving well. and maybe on a spectrum level i am but boy this can be so difficult. take care of yourselves, listen to your bodies, go to therapy, love yourself and your people, find gratitude in what can be a very a shitty space.

l, js