I haven’t written in awhile. Mainly because I have nothing to say. Nothing good anyway. I could tell you about the ridiculous experience that was my first brazilian, but my family reads this, so I won’t. (Daddy, don’t google that. Trust me.)
I’m struggling right now more than I ever have. And after fighting this disease since I was sixteen you’d think I’d be good at it. That I’d have my defenses in place and ready to fight. But I don’t. I feel untenable. I feel like if anyone were to look too closely or too deeply I would shatter. I feel like I’ve already shattered from trying to keep myself together and one strong breeze will knock me down.
I’m trying very hard to remember that depression is a lying bastard, that I will come out of this on the other side. Hopefully stronger, definitely battleworn but maybe even a little better.
I don’t believe a word of that, but I’m trying very hard to fake it until I do.