As i know it

I've said it before. I've been pretty open about it. I've sounded like I knew what I was doing. I thought I had a handle on it. It found a way to sneak up on me though. I have a good life. Things are mostly ok here. And yet, Depression located my hiding place. It hunted me down. I truly thought that after all these years that I was safe. I must have let my guard down. Stupid, stupid me. I know how this has affected me before. I know how devastated I have been. How hard hit. How much pain has found me despite my cries of 'unfair!'. How many times I have curled up like a child at the back of a dark corner of the house begging Depression to leave me alone? The people in my life say that they are here for me, that I can call anytime and they truly mean it. What they don't get is that I can't make that kind of rational decision when Depression has wrapped around me. Imagine a bat, but a massive one, one that sucks the life out of you but not figuratively, literally. Each part of it that touches you leeks a portion of you away. I can see it, feel it but not do a damned thing about it. I am dead inside, so I ask myself why not be dead outside? Problem being, I don't want to be the one to do it. I don't actually want to die. I just wish I wasn't here. Wasn't born. This is Depression. Not me. Not my 'self'. Not in any way the person any one knows. Just this thing that carries the name of Depression. So I became what is called a 'cutter'. I take a deep breath here. It carries such a stigma. It is shitty to admit. I don't want to field the questions but at the same time, if there is one person who is helped or one person who gets me in a better way, then my shame is worth it. I'm scared and scarred. I would have changed who I am years ago if it was possible. That should be obvious but often isn't. I can't 'snap out of it'. I can't 'just get over it'. I can't 'move on'. I couldn't 'just grow up'. I just discovered at 37, it never goes away. I can never be complacent. It will find me. It will always try to ruin me and who I have fought to become. It makes sure I never grow up. It will be forever there to stop me from snapping out of anything. Even if I could, Depression is there to make sure I doubt what I am doing. 

Wow, I'm honored

I have had a few people recently who told me that they actually read my blog and enjoy it. (You guys deserve mention because it did impact me, my cousin Naseim and my awesome friend Bobby) What a moment of suprise for me, self satisfaction. I like to think I'm fucking cool but mostly I doubt it and wonder how much of a burden I truly am on those around me. Especially when my ego takes over and I forget to think of the feelings that other people might have. Hearing that people who don't feel obligated still read what I have to say inspires me. I grew up watching my dad dismiss my mother and her opinions, feelings, thoughts, to the point that I hated being a girl (woman as time went on). I've always thought that if I don't say it loud, it won't be heard. I became opinionated even when I didn't believe in myself just to have something to say. Now I'm saying all those things that I held back out of fear and shame and there are actually people listening. How is that possible? When I am around my friends, or family, or even acquaintances, I want to open up, I want to share, but I find myself halfway through a ramble wondering if they are even listening at all. Especially because I suck at listening. Actually, no, I do listen, I just can't retain most of the time and that is because I am too absorbed in relating. I am mainly trying to find common ground but to such an extent that I don't focus and that seems mean.So I'm sorry to anyone out there that has spoken to me, shared, discussed and then realized that I am in a different part of our conversation. I don't do it on purpose and I do appreciate your being.