If you met me before July 2015 and after August 2017, you probably know of me as a bubbly, cheery person. I have a close friend who calls me “Tigger” because of my energy; I like to be happy, I like to spread warmth, and I like to laugh. I had a really rough 2 years and had anhedonia; nothing made me happy, and all I felt was hopelessness.
I worked really hard on coping mechanisms, on learning how to not assign happiness to outcomes, but to enjoy the journey, and I have discovered things to love about me [I have a lot of things about me that I love.] So while my overall mood/state of wellbeing is good, I did struggle with depression, I baseline have anxiety, and the lack of sunlight does not make things easier for me.
We live in a society in which it’s still not okay to be okay, and the only time is it kosher to share your sad story is if a triumphant ending follows. No one wants to hear that you’re still going through it. But, sometimes, like today, I have days when I feel sad as hell, and my day is a bit teary. These moments can happen because I’ve read too many terrible news stories, and I feel helpless, because something happened that was triggering and reminded me of my 2 year-long nightmare, I didn’t get something I wanted, or because my brain has decided she wants to mope, I’ve written down a few things that I do to cope with these feelings.