Depression. When it Hits, it Hits Hard.

I have struggled with depression for years. To the point where I have been diagnosed with Severe Major Depressive Disorder.

She told me I have been depressed for so long, that it has become a part of my personality. This diagnosis was 6 years ago, and it has not been alleviated. Prozac turned me into a zombie. Welbutrin had me crying 8-10 times a day.

Obviously, life situations have not helped matters. My children and I are pretty much on our own in this world. Their father choses not to be a part of their lives, checking in only on birthdays and major holidays. Which means months at a time without word.

Our seven month long #homelessexperience was awful, I went months without feeling anything but guilt and remourse and worthlessness.

Losing my beloved Envy during that time almost killed me. My trio of children were seriously the only thing that kept me going. Without them, suicide would not have even been a question. It would have been over and done with.

We have lived here in our home for over a month now. Our lives are more stable, though not settled. We have #DragonandAlbus but those sweet kitties are not Envy.

The meds I take help, but they still allow incredibly depressive downswings. Days at a time when I get out of bed only to work and feed the children.

No time is spent on needs for myself, at all. I've spent the last week in one of those downswings. I do not feel like I'm out of it, yet.

This is one of the things that happen.

Matts and dreadlocks in my hair. It's embarassing, for sure. I still wash it and dry it. It's clean. But it just goes up in a messy bun for work, for sleep, for pretty much everything.

Tonight is one of those nights when I pretty much just want to shave it all off and start over.

Those with a healthy mind probably have a hard time understanding. I know that before all of this, I wouldn't have been able to get it.

I don't care enough about myself, to take care of myself. Willow and Sparrow and Inari are my life. I do their hair, wash their faces and make sure they have enough to eat. I clean the house.

It is torture to wash the dishes. Standing there for so long, interacting with the world... I would rather lay down and sleep. A quick pick-up and vacuum and the livingroom is good to go. A quick sweep and wipe down and the bathroom is fine.

The dishes are such a source of anxiety. And that makes the depression worse. What is wrong with me that I let the dinner dishes sit until morning? Did I seriously let us run out of cups? Useless. Worthless. Go back to bed.

I hate feeling like this. Feeling like my kids deserve better. Knowing I'm doing the best I can and failing while other parents make it look so effortless.

She does her makeup, wears nice clothes, her kids look great AND she manages to brush her fucking hair.

Depression sucks. If you know someone in your life is suffering from depression, don't ignore them. They might not have a trio of angels keeping them from death's door.

Because depression doesn't pull punches. Depression is a bitch. And she'll take your friends, your family, your self worth. She takes, and takes and never gives back.

People with depression may put on a silly face and give you a good show. But a lot of us are masters of control. We hide it. Sometimes you would never guess it hurts us so badly inside. And we are not okay.

Thank you for reading.