The Worst Part

The worst part of my trifecta of problems is the not caring about most things due to my depression. I care where it counts the most - with my students - but beyond that, I have no desire for anything. My apartment is suffering from a war between the dust bunnies and the cat hair regiments, my finances are a mess, and I'm not taking care of myself how I should be. Mount Laundry has finally taken over. If I could teach and sleep, I would be good to go.

But there are the weekends alone that suck and the worst time for me, when my panic attacks usually occur, are the hours between the end of school and the time I go to bed. My mind revs up during those few hours and panic about all my troubles sets in. Try as I might, I can't stop the 'what ifs' and 'shoulda-coulda-would as'. I'm trapped by a bad past.

I'm not alone in my struggles and there are people out there who are in worst states than I am but I can only focus on me because I am here. When I started on this journey last summer I thought it would be a quick fix but instead it's been all downhill on a sled of memories and revelations.

I want to care again and I hope I will but that upward hill is a doozy. For me it's not one day at a time but one hour at a time as I journey to find the real me.

(Please don't take this as anything other than sharing what my depression is like. :) )