I wonder what could have been. Who would I be if my illness were non-existant? Would I be successful? Would I be happy? Would my strongest friendships and relationships have actually lasted? Would I feel so isolated and abandoned…?
It is the wondering that hurts the most. Forever contemplating what could have been had I not been held back by the inefficiency of my own brain.
These thoughts never leave my head. These thoughts keep me awake at night and distracted throughout the day. An endless cycle of what ifs.
I have given up all hope of these thoughts ever subsiding. I have given up hope of ever being truly happy. I have resigned myself to a perpetual battle with my own mind; and with such resignation I have empowered myself.
No, I will never be content. No, I will never be “normal”. No, I will never love myself and have sufficient confidence to brush off my insecurities. Yet I am strong; I will survive. I will forever battle with the demons inside. Surrender is not an option for me anymore.
With understanding and acceptance of my illness I have found the strength to fight. To stare into the eyes of the black dog and say, “Not today mf. Not any day.”
I will never back down again. I will never take the easy way out. I will struggle. I will hurt. I will cry, and rage, and scream into the night; I will polish my armour after every battle and despite my exhaustion I will continue to fight.
I may have depression, but depression doesn't have me.
