Being depressed does not mean being miserable all the time. Of course, it’s easy to fake not being unhappy but also when alone, with no need to pretend I have days when I don’t cry, when I get through without panicking or worrying or being invaded by the bad thoughts or overwhelmed by negativity. Occasionally I feel optimistic and positive and I fool myself that I’m getting better. It doesn’t last (not yet anyway) but it gives me hope that the real me remains somewhere inside and that it may be possible to find her again one day.
Today I woke up feeling that there could be a future and that the fact that I have no idea where I’m going to be in a week’s time could be seen as a positive thing. I have options, I should think of myself as lucky; I am lucky. I should see this as a chance to see new things, do new things and that’s what I felt. I thought about travelling again – short trips this time, closer to home – and I completed an application form to work with refugees in Calais. I looked at work exchanges and Spanish courses and I felt like my old self again.
Of course it didn’t last. It’s gone now. The negativity fought back and won out. I’m back to being my new self. I hope the old me shows her face again soon. It would be nice if she could stay a bit longer.