If you follow me on twitter you will know that I’ve been struggling with my depression the last few days. This happens every so often, there’s no reason or trigger, it just is. That’s how depression works. I can’t fix or change it, I just have to cope the best I can. I have to do the right thing to take care of me. I have cried myself to sleep the last two nights, and still woken up early to go to the gym. Even if I did come home and get back in bed. I’ve been on the verge of tears all day both days, and then when I’ve gotten into bed the floodgates have opened.
But in between the sobbing, and the feelings of inadequacy came the moments of perfect clarity. Those moments when I knew the right thing to do; what I needed to do, what would be best for me. Now I just have to work out how to do it because doing what I need to will mean walking away from something I am really enjoying, something good, something fun. However that something good has been spoiled, it has become something not good for me, so I need to walk away.
I wish that wasn’t the case because the idea of walking away is breaking my heart but staying is breaking it too. It’s time for me to decide between the heartbreak of staying, and keeping my feelings locked away. Or choosing to walk away and allowing myself to feel, even if it hurts. To walk away and keep the memories good, or to let those great memories become tainted with the sadness I can’t keep hiding.
The Right Thing
I know it’s time to make a choice but I still don’t know if I’m ready because knowing the right thing to do and actually doing it are very different things. I know I can’t keep on like this because I am terrible at hiding my feelings, I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve. I can keep up a brave face for a little bit but then the cracks will start showing…….and I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.
When I care about someone I care all the way. I don’t do half measures. I’m quite slow to trust but once I do you are all the way in. If that trust breaks, however it happens I can’t find a way to get it back, I can’t fix it. Even if I try to hold it together it won’t be the same any more, and in trying to fix it, I will break myself. I will prioritise fixing it long after I should have given up. Usually because I see just enough glimmers of light to give me some hope that it can be fixed. I live in hope I can find some way to work around it without it breaking me.
It takes a lot of trust for me to let people see the cracks; for me to drop my mask and really let someone see the hurt. I will try and hide the cracks, the hurt, even when it is all over my face. Even if you see past the mask, you won’t always get to see the real hurt. You’ll see a version of it. The version I sanitised so I don’t scare you away, the version I think will be easiest for you to handle, the version I think you want. I guess really it’s still a mask. Just a different one.
And even after all this I don’t know if I can do the right thing. Not yet.