(Originally posted 5.6.2024)
Well. Hi there! It's been a hot minute, hasn't it? In fact, it's been OVER A YEAR since I last posted a new blog post and that is just one of many things I aim to change these next several months, starting now.
When Covid-19 hit, the world was forever changed. We had to re-evaluate how we interact, how we work, how we manage our spending and finances. Jobs were lost or forever altered. Businesses closed amidst frustrations and tears and, quite frankly, I almost saw myself among them, especially these past two years. Because, with the chaos of Covid, came a chronic-illness flare that saw me ill-equipped to handle the new stresses now facing me. For two years, I struggled to work, to clean my home, to get out of bed at all, even. Still today I sleep 12 hours at a time, force myself to crawl from the cocoon of my blankets and do something, anything, with my day. And, if you've ever experienced chronic illness, you'll know it's almost always accompanied by it's faithful companion, Depression.
I struggled deeply. I cried daily. I saw very little point in moving forward, in striving to do and be better, when feeling so very low. So, I began to make sacrifices, as part of my effort to manage my illness and depression and simply cope with my new life. My business was the first sacrificial lamb, of course. I cut activities I enjoyed yet had no energy to continue. The Treasure Hunt Tuesdays, tutorial memberships, videos and live chats, and the "Finish It!" contests were all casualties of either Covid, or my attempt to take control again, in whatever ways I could.
Many times, I thought "Today is the day. Today I'm announcing the closure of my business", and I was ready to do it. I was ready to sell everything, beef up my resume and find whatever soul-crushing retail position this town could provide. At least, I thought, that's stable... that's a paycheck. I know what I'm getting myself into. And yet not even that felt feasible while I slept half the day and cried for the rest.
I reached out when I could, when my energy allowed. I journaled at times, to help work through the traumas of my illness and the ever-present feelings of failure. And this helped for a time, for a day or a week even. But still, I slept. And when I wasn't sleeping, I was weeping. And through the struggle, somehow, I seemed to find the other side of it. Through perseverance and the support of others, I moved through each day, only thinking of the next minute in front of me.
Eventually, the depression seemed to slink into the shadows, and I could see a bit more of the light. I wish I could tell you how, but that doesn't seem to be how depression works. I don't want to romanticize mental illness with some white-knight allegory about how all I needed was love. Sometimes, what you need is therapy and medication, the time AND the support of others. I was privileged to have that time and that support, required to see me through. I was privileged to have a doctor who listens (with an abundance of tissues and hugs). And, quite frankly, I got a little lucky that, just as I hit my limit, the darkness dissipated and the weight of sadness lifted. If I could wish anything at all for those who suffer illness and depression, it would be these same privileges and luck.
I handled what I could handle, gave up what I couldn't, and saw myself day to day towards some semblance of living. And I feel safe now, in my own head. I still chronically ill. I still sleep 12-14 hours every single day, break out in a rash when I'm hot. I'm still losing my hair, gaining unexplainable weight, and can't climb stairs without a sweat soon to follow. I'm still incredibly nervous about getting a cold or the flu, which almost always worsen my symptoms ten-fold. But, despite it all, I feel safe in my own head. And, for that, I'm eternally grateful.
So, what I wish to say to you, reading this now, is that I see you, and I hope for you freedom from your burdens, your illness, your stress and sadness. I want for you support and, while it's not a cure, the love of those who care for you. You deserve no less than that. And if you are struggling, just look at the minute you are in, and the minute coming next, and focus on walking from one minute to the other, and keep walking and, someday, it's not quite a chore. Someday, you'll realize there's a little more light by which to walk, and your legs don't feel quite so heavy and maybe.... just maybe.... you can smile and laugh and mean it.
I see you. I love you. Keep walking.
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