I’ve been wondering if I should write the following entry. I mean, I haven’t even started writing it yet, but I’m pretty sure I know where it will be going. I’ve been going back and forth with it, trying to decide if I should write about what I’m going to write about, because really, does the world NEED another “I have Depression” blog entry? Meh. But the thing is, it’s there. It has to get out… it’s how I do things, man. I’ll try to make it entertaining at least. Here goes nothin’…

It’s coming up on three months now. Three months out of my life where I’ve been goddamn sad. SAD. I have an awesome life. I love my life! I have a great job, my husband kicks ass, I’m healthy, my dog is adorable, the weather has been perfect, my mother is happy, I’m an aunt as opposed to a parent, and I have some seriously great friends.

But it doesn’t matter. None of it.

My brain just keeps saying things like, “you don’t deserve any of this, you’re not worth the happiness you should be feeling, it would be so much better if you just weren’t here, you fat cow”. Three months. Non-stop, relentless, exhausting bullying. It’s like I have a whole chapter of the Gamma Gamma Phi sorority in my head. Stupid bitches.

And in all honesty, I’m just really, really tired. Having to get out of bed each day is one thing, but to have to keep up a happy facade is something completely different. Smile! Laugh! Wear pants! This sucks nuts. It would just be so much easier if I could rock a Brian Wilson. It would be easier, but not better.

Remember that scene in Breaking Bad where Skylar goes apeshit on Marie and tells her to shut up over and over again? I want a Skylar in my head. Shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP! Now, before you start worrying, no, I do NOT “hear voices” in my head. It’s not that type of voice. It’s more like a ticker tape of hate just sort of wrapping around my brain. And that ticker tape has been around since I was about six years old. That’s as far back as I can remember it being there, anyway.

The ticker tape has met its fair share of counselors and psychologists, meds, and self-help books, and it has certainly shrunk in power. It’s less ‘Despot’, and more ‘Prime Minister’. We’ve made a deal, this ticker tape and I: I ignore it when it says that I’m not good enough to be on the planet and I should do something about that, and in return, it gets to stick around and act up every so often instead of every single day. It’s not the greatest deal, but it’s not a terrible one, either. I’m ok with it, because it means that every time that ticker tape gets pissy, I get to learn how to deal with it in a different way. I get stronger. I learn more. I feel success when it goes away.

But three months?! Holy hellballs, is this getting old. All I can do is keep on my feet and let this thing run its course. I know it will, it always does – I have no fear that it will stay like this forever.

In the meantime, I need to be cognizant of what The Cheerleader I’m Married To is experiencing while we’re dealing with this (that man is a goddamn saint, people), try my best to ignore the siren song of ice cream, and keep logging into Tuna Melts My Heart.

This too shall pass, this too shall pass.

(Hopefully) Happy Thursday all…