On Being Self Aware


I noticed that the last blog post I wrote garnered a decent amount of attention. It had a lot of views and shares, which, as a young writer, I like…but, I mostly noticed that a lot of people thought what I wrote was sad. And it was, I agree. I didn’t 100% intend for it to be that way- but something that I pride myself on is that I can speak to people in a relatable way, so if it evoked feelings of sadness in others that’s okay.

What I don’t really often write about is that I do struggle with depression. It’s been a big part of my life for as long as I can remember. A few people in my family have lived with it as well. It’s made me really sad (obviously), really angry, really confused, and I’ve often found myself facing challenges that I don’t too often see my peers dealing with.

I don’t want to make excuses for myself or my behavior, but I do, a lot. I mean that last post was basically just me bitching about how busy I am and barely taking accountability for anything. I think one of the biggest issues I’ve faced with depression was trying to pretend like I didn’t have it. In one way, this is good, the same way it’s good to not act like you have a stubbed toe because you’ll end up just banging it on more shit. But it’s mostly bad; I think any human being knows that bottling up problems and never discussing them fuels bigger problems, and ultimately greater versions of sadness and anger.

One big problem I created by ignoring my depression and writing blogs about literally everything else, is that I find it very difficult to figure out why I’m upset. Or angry. Or hurt. Or just anything other than happy. I want to automatically say that I’m too busy, or I’m too tired, or I’m too poor, or my husband doesn’t pay attention to me enough, or my cat is annoying. While some of those things are true, it doesn’t change the fact that I am me.

It’s been over a month since I’ve done yoga, gone on a walk, read a book, or written anything besides that last “sad” blog. It’s easy to say you want to be a better person. It’s super easy to want things. I was (am) not making active, present changes to be a good employee, wife, daughter, or person.

I don’t really like being preachy, and I definitely am not an expert on…anything. But I just want to say that as much as I love being funny and sassy and sarcastic, I would much rather be helpful, and truthful. I spent most of the day today crying and feeling like I let a lot of people down. But I came home and sat on my un-made bed and my little cat Mia ran in and sat next to me. She curled up right on my lap and purred and purred and purred. I didn’t even feed her today. I think Mia knows I only care about myself. But maybe she knows I’m trying not to. I want whoever reads this to know that you are worthy of love, and comfort, and happiness and belonging, even if that seems impossible sometimes.

And if you don’t have a fluffy kitty, or a way-too understanding husband to remind you of that, I will. I would be happy to do that for you.




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