🌈Ranibow Sprimkle🌈

the bunnies said so :o) 

i’m thankful for you.

happy thanksgiving.

i hope you enjoy it, get through it at the very least if the holidays are hard for you.

So, for the past few months (longer, even) I’ve been struggling with my moods and a general feeling of overwhelm. But recently, I was confiding in a friend about it – something I rarely do, tbh, especially when I’m feeling particularly vulnerable, something I need to work on, I know – and in the middle of my tears, she said, “you know what I was thinking? What if you’re having a depressive episode?” So simply, so gently, just an aside in the midst of our conversation. And something clicked, in a way I can’t even describe, because yes – that was it.

It’s not my first. I’ve had ups and downs my whole life, and an especially bad period after I had my first child. It was easy to blame the circumstances of my life for it: marital troubles, a new baby, financial concerns. And yet, the whole time I told myself that, I knew it was me – me who was bad, me who was wrong, me who could never be enough.

But here’s the thing: It wasn’t. I wasn’t responsible for my misery, or the apathy that made it hard for me to get out of bed. And neither were the circumstances of my life, not really. It was a simple combination (in my case) of genetics and weird brain chemistry, and once a doctor sat me down and told me so, it felt like I was being granted permission – for clarity, to understand myself. I didn’t have to blame… anything. Knowing that meant so much to me. I’m not bad or lazy or wrong. I can be enough. Sometimes it would take work, make no mistake, and maybe more for me than for others, but if I was willing and able to put in the effort, it would be worth it.

I went on meds, then, and they helped. And with the permission my friend unknowingly, lovingly granted me a few weeks ago, I sought help, and got on meds once more. I may take these longer, or they might simply smooth me through the rough patch again, but despite how tired they still make me, I think they’re starting to take effect.

And I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately (for obvious reasons). As I start paying attention to things again, more and more, I’m noticing a lot of people on tumblr who, with their posts, strike that familiar chord in me. Oh, I think, you feel that too. Like you’re wrong somehow, like you’re weak for being sad or feeling helpless, like life might not get any better. So I just wanted to say out there to anyone who might be like me: yes, it can get better. You aren’t wrong, or bad, or weak. I don’t know what you are or what could bring you joy, but I think you deserve the opportunity to find out, and seeking help is one way you might be able to do that. And if it’s worth anything to you, there’s someone out here giving you permission to look in the mirror again. There’s someone out here who believes it’s okay, and that you can be strong, even if strength ends up looking not at all like you thought it might. We all fight our battles differently and maybe you think what you’re going through doesn’t matter, but that doesn’t mean you’re not in a fight right now, and I believe in you.

I just wanted to put that down, for anyone (else) who might need it.