When Resisting Depression Makes It Worse
It’s one of those days. The pull to stay in bed all day and hide from the world is the only thing I can do. Nothing bad happened. No one hurt my feelings. I just want to disappear from this dread and despair.
Today, it physically hurts. The anxiety I am carrying in my heart is overpowering. It’s hard to shift my focus to the gorgeous and sunny day.
Then, the dreaded “should” and “should nots” start. I should be happy. I should be able to handle this dark place by now after 20 years. I shouldn’t let this steal from my ability to work. I shouldn’t allow this to isolate me from the world.
Those only make it worse. My inability to accept this darkness when it shows up creates more sadness and more despair.
I have to accept this illness. I have to befriend this dark place and not run and hide from it. I know this will bring me more peace if I could just fully and completely accept this darkness as a part of me, most of me, to be brutally honest.
For all the years I have struggled, I have resisted it. Feared it. Run from it. Hated it. Detached from it. Downplayed it. All that has done is make me not accept what is. In order for me to feel any sort of peace, I need to accept this ugly illness that wants to take me down most days. The truth is, I don’t need to like it to accept it.
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