I Don't Believe Depression's Lies Anymore, but Sometimes They're Hard to Ignore
Depression is a liar.
I said it.
Even though I have always known it, sometimes the lie is a little too easy to believe; the ache is too heavy to handle and my heart just hurts too much. But it is still a liar.
My depression came slowly, and then all at once, first a just a little heartbroken, and then it was an all-consuming I-wish-I-was-dead kind of thing. I believed the lies it was telling me and everything just seemed too much.
It was too hard to get out of bed, to take a shower, to do anything but watch Netflix on my computer, hiding under the covers to try and hide from myself. I deleted all the social media off my phone so I wouldn’t have to see the perfection of the people I used to know. I shut myself in because I didn’t feel worthy, or honestly, anything. But depression is a liar.
I believed the lies it told me for months. Some days were better than others, and still are. At first it was good hours. Then good days. Now it’s good weeks. But even now I sometimes struggle. Not because I believe the lie, but because sometimes I can’t ignore the message before it gets to me.
And that’s OK. Because I have good days. And good weeks. And good hours. Because I have found joy in the littlest things. I appreciate things so much more than I did before. I cry at TV shows and movies. I laugh more.
I spend more time reflecting on the things I want, and I spend less time looking back. I wouldn’t change the past because it made me who I am. And I am so proud of the person I have become.
I still have days. And I’m still recovering in so many ways. But I’m better than I was. Stronger than I was. I have more grace than ever.
Because I no longer believe the lie. Because depression is a liar. Because joy is here to stay.
If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255, the Trevor Project at 1-866-488-7386 or text “START” to 741-741.
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