Why is this time different?

I’ve been asked numerous times why this time my desire and motivation to beat my mental illness is different. The first time I was I asked this I actually felt a bit bewildered. I was caught by surprised and truth be told, at the time, I didn’t know why this time was different. But as I answered I realised what was coming out of my mouth was completely and utterly true.

Long story short, I’m sick of feeling like crap all the time. Its goddamn exhausting fighting with my negative and overbearing mind constantly. I’m sick of losing my ability to see through the fog that my depression creates. I’m sick and tired of not knowing what is real and what is not, what is my depression and what is me. And I just want to be free of that short-of-breath, tightchested, panicky feeling of anxiety; like someone is holding my heart in their fist and squeezing it relentlessly.

I guess I’m also maturing and I’ve got tools to deal with my mind with the help of my psychologist. Though I must say, I’m lucky I’ve found my psychologist equivalent of a soulmate, but it took me a few to find him. There is a reason why people practice mindfulness, meditation and yoga; they actually help make you feel better and more wholesome.  In my experience, using every ounce of energy I could muster to dive into these things was and is important, even when I feel like absolute shit. A half-arse attempt doesn’t help. I’m also on my fourth type of antidepressant in four years and I think I have this new one to thank for my uplifted mood of late. Though I’ll admit I like to dig my heels in a bit because I hate that I need to take a pill to be happy. But more on that at a later date.

Its easy to say and feel this but it doesn’t just fix everything by some almighty miracle just because I’ve decided I want to beat the beast. I know that its going to take a lot of time and hard work all of which can only come from me. It’s up to no one else but myself. It’s not suddenly all roses and daisies; there are going to be shit days and tough times. Though I’m sure even people without a mental illness have bad days too. Naturally I have an epic fear of relapsing but if I avoid the downward spiral I have faith that I’ll be fine. I’m not talking about religious faith here, I’m not religious. I’m talking about the kind of gutsy faith that can only come from my core.

“Faith is the art of holding on to things in spite of your changing moods and circumstances.” – C.S. Lewis

The hardest thing I can imagine is a life where I won’t feel this way. I don’t know any different because all I know is sadness. After a decade of feeling like shit I’ve found that my excuse has been; I’ll never get better so what’s the point in trying. But honestly if I don’t try how can I say that?

Then came a day when I had an epic epiphany, inspired by a quote and a friend;

“You will see it when you believe it” – Wayne Dyer

This was a monumentous epiphany. I felt this overwhelming sense of relief coursing through my veins. There is no way to prove that I’m going to get better but the only way is to just bite the bullet and do everything I can. My whole outlook has shifted, I just have to believe and I’m halfway there! I’ve gotta own it and gotta want it. It’s as simple as that. 

You need need dirt and sunshine to grow flowers.


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