It's time to move forward

'Let's promise every girl we marry we'll always love them when we probably won't' (Frightened Rabbit) sounds through my speakers and is, equally, misquoted on the wall beside them. A large collection of lyrics gather around my bed, my favourite of which (tonight, at least) reads 'What's so great about the Great Depression?' (Robbie Williams). It's not that I think my condition compares to the economic ruin of an entire continent but if I may be so bold as to borrow the name for the purposes of this post then I ask you this: What is so great about the 'great depression'? Why am I afraid to get better? Why do I subconsciously refuse to hold onto happiness?

I will admit that my latest post wasn't really written to you, my beloved strangers. It was written to give the man I pay to listen some sense of what it was I couldn't talk about. I never struggled so much to find a conclusion. It wasn't really supposed to have one. It was more of an articulation of the things that I can't say aloud and I'm not comfortable or rational about just yet, the stuff I need someone else to summarise for me. I have continued along my new plan and, although my attempt to quit smoking has become more of a cut back than a cease fire, I've joined the gym and found some work. It has helped almost immediately. Last night I felt a feeling that wasn't chaotic or extreme. I was simply happy. What's more, I was falling asleep happy. That amazed me! Usually, I have to be really tired to sleep... I thought about it, it was such a child-like feeling. Could it be that I associate real happiness with childhood because I haven't had very much since? The thought made me sad. Not a desperate, urgent kind of sadness though, a gentle feeling... And I was falling asleep sad. That terrified me and the fear made me needy and ate me up until I was too tired to be afraid. I fell asleep.

I don't think I'm very good at moving on. It kinda makes sense as I'm in a Christmas jumper on January 14th, wearing the socks of a guy who dumped me many moons ago. Does that make it ironic that the words around my bedroom door are 'I won't look back 'cause there's no use, it's time to move forward!' (Paramore)?! I'm getting to a place where I'm shedding the skin of depression but, as we all know, depression has never been skin deep. I can only stand alone on the outside - no man is an island, right? I find myself questioning all of the positives, the motives behind good deeds... My therapist told me to talk back to the voices that undermine me (and I laughed at the mental health expert advising me to talk to myself).

So here's advice from my therapist to you: Make a chart of things you'd like to do! Not a bucket list by any means, things to do in the time where you're struggling. Mine includes learning to drive, doing pilates and yoga and learning how to really play guitar.

As the Cycle Against Suicide say - let's break the cycle!
depressivedetails@gmail.com