Fight On

I'm sitting here, fingers poised on the keyboard, ready to type whatever my mind might come up with; and I'm at a loss. I feel as though I don't really have the words right now, but I also feel like I need to write, need to share, need to engage in whatever community I'm considered part of. It's much like my life in general, there's a space there, a need to fill; but nothing quite does the trick. Do you know that feeling? I think the thing that I'm lacking is hope.

I've lost hope more and more as my mental illnesses have progressed; and even in times when they remain the same. It's the consistency, in fact, that gets me. The day in and day out with no changes to speak of is killer. I want to hope. I want to feel as though one day I'll feel better and stay that way. It seems though, that life keeps telling me that the staying better is just too much to ask for.

I came back from my vacation feeling absolutely on top of the world. I saw my favorite person on the planet and was reminded that I'm loved by someone who doesn't have to love me. I felt as though my ability to fight my mind had been renewed. I could do this thing. I could keep fighting. I could make positive change; because change actually felt possible.

I wasn't completely wrong. I came home and started doing things that I love again. I felt happy. Happiness, though, is fleeting. The darkness crept back in like it always seems to. Everything just felt like too much. Simple tasks became too much once again. My mind started fighting back against the progress I'd begun to make.

Let me tell you, my mind is one powerful mother fucker when it wants to bring me down. It knocks me down with the general apathy that comes with my depression, pulling the joy out of doing anything at all. Then it kicks me while I'm down by convincing me that the world would be better off with me gone. Then it keeps kicking and kicking while I stew in ideations and plans. It beats me to a pulp and I'm left to attempt to tend my wounds.

And that's why I've lost hope; things never change for me, no matter how much or how hard I try to make things change. I try to get back up only to be kicked in the gut by my own mind. *insert dramatic sigh here*

I keep trudging on though. I keep waking up day after day so that I can keep loving on my sweet baby boys who I love so very much. I keep putting one foot in front of the other so that my parents won't have to bury their daughter. I step into that ring with my mind each and every day, no matter how futile it may seem, so that my sister can talk to me on the phone rather than talking to a cold stone resting above me.

No matter how hopeless I feel, I fight on; I hope you will, too.