You guys know that I started coming off my happy pills a few weeks ago. (I only have about a week to go and then I’m done.) It’s been kind of frightening; I was so afraid that I would sink back into that dark, numb place again, which would mean that I would have to take pills for possibly the rest of my life. And I’ve also been wondering a lot lately if I will forget what it’s like to be depressed. And am I still clinically depressed? Should I still label myself that if I graduated from taking happy pills?
Well, I got one answer today in the shower. My grandpa came over this morning to fix a leaky faucet and he left a few of his tools around the bathroom. I turned around in the shower to grab the shampoo and there it was: a large red razor with the rusty blade exposed. My heart skipped a beat, I think, as I picked it up to get a closer look, squinting because I wasn’t wearing contacts. I remembered how I purposely ignored the disposable shaving razors during those hard times. And in that instant, as I retracted the blade and returned it to the shelf, I realized that yes, I will probably remember what it’s like to be depressed.
I think I’ll always remember.
And that is my blessing. Because while I remembered all those times the razors seemed so tempting–and just those flimsy shaving types, not even the real deal–I also remembered the strength it took to put suicidal thoughts out of my mind. I remembered that I am strong. I realized that the habit of living that I have developed will help me in the future on days when even to live is an act of courage.
I’m no hero. I’m probably not even as strong as I give myself credit for. But I have been “just enough” for so long that now it is a habit. Dealing with dark thoughts has become easier. And on bad days, I remind myself what my counselor loves to say:
“I am, in and of myself, of infinite worth and good enough.”
And so are you.
I think this is going to be my last post for a while. I finished classes at the end of April and now I have some free time to reevaluate who I am and what I want to do with my life. We both know that I want to be a writer. And as much as I love blogging, I think I need to go back to novel writing until Fall semester starts. Of course, I might not even return to this blog; who knows? That’s the beauty of life: not knowing, just hoping. And I hope to see you all again soon.