One of the beauties of time is the self-reflection it offers.
I distinctly remember the day that I wasn’t feeling well – in my heart and in my head.
Nothing seemed to resolve itself. The harder I tried to cease the anxiety, the stress and the anger…the more it surfaced. Fizzling to the top, spilling into a convoluted emotional outpour.
I can vividly recall stopping at the red traffic light and breaking into a sudden burst of tears. Suddenly discovering that this. What I was feeling, wasn’t normal.
Returning home, I found my husband in the kitchen and ran over to hug him tight. Again and again he asked me what was wrong.
Finally, in between the violent sobs I whispered, “I think I have depression…”
Funnily enough, until that moment, I hadn’t realized how much of a muddle I was actually in.
And having uttered those very words terrified me.
I was so sure I knew who I was. The essence of me held inner strength, ambition and confidence. I was the extrovert. A communicator. The sociable, affable one.
Or so I thought.
Since that teary day, when I ultimately faced my demons and asked for help, the journey to recovery has been slow. But steady. And then not so.
There have been detours and setbacks.
But I can look back and see how far (and deep) I’ve come. There are still underlying issues that need to be uncovered and dealt with.
But from here on now, there’s a stronger, controlling grasp on life.
And for what it’s worth, there is far less doubt as to who I am.
To the light again.
Joining the IBOT team over at Essentially Jess