I know I’ve been quiet the last few days. Many of you know that I struggle with depression. Although it didn’t get quite so deep this time, it still came. And when that happens, there’s not much I can do except ride it out. I know it will get better. I’ve finally learned not to make decisions while in that state. I just let my body do what it needs to do to get through it, which generally consists of sleeping and staring at the TV all day.
I’m very fortunate that my fiance understands my struggle and always seems to know what I need. He reminds me that it’s ok to “do nothing,” which, for my task-oriented self, is very important to hear.
I also am very fortunate to have friends on Facebook that understand my struggle. I simply post that I’m having a rough day, and instantly, I have countless posts of support. Those mean so much to me.
Did you know that many great artists, writers and painters alike, have struggled with mental illness? I have wondered in the past if it’s part of what makes it possible to create. Hemmingway, Van Gogh, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Pablo Picasso, Cole Porter, Tolstoy, Tennessee Williams, and countless other “greats” reportedly all struggled with the stuff. I’m not saying I’m even close to being as talented as these folks, but if they did what they did, while (or because of) struggling, then I am in good company.