These days I’m celebrating quite an important anniversary.
Besides every ups and downs I may have had since last May, this month officially marks the birth of the not-so-little ghost I’m overall constantly carrying on my shoulders and which sometimes whispers words to my ear I’d rather not listen to.
It’s ironic: generally, an anniversary stands for something beautiful that happened in the past, like your birth or the wedding day of your parents. In this case, it’s nothing like that. About a year ago, I started feeling anxious and sad most of the time, and this ceaseless mood of mine has turned out to be depression. I may list every single reason that led me to develop such an unnecessary and both overwhelming and nullifying feeling, but that’s not important. What truly matters is how I’m going to destroy this unwanted virus of mine.
The truth is, ladies and gentleman, as in any extended periods in your life you get to experience, you’ll end up getting used to it. And I realise how weird and disturbing it sounds, but I’ve been depressed for so long in my life (because this disorder didn’t start a year ago: a year ago has “officially” begun and has never stopped so far) that I’ve learnt how to live with it. It’s a condition I’ve come to accept, eventually.
It’s way easier to get used to something we actually dislike, instead of trying and doing something to change and better it.
I’m very glad to be able to say I’m seeing and will be seeing a therapist, for as long as I need. It’s incredible how someone who gets to know you just by your words can tell you about yourself more that many people you get to see everyday can. M (that’s what I’m going to call her from now on), always says that I know myself very well and that’s great in her opinion, because I can preview any mental breakdown and, once I’m going through them, I know how to behave.
But being able to really know yourself isn’t enough.
I thank the universe for having a person who motivates me by my side. She spurs me to pursue my goals and willingly kicks the little monster I host in my mind. She did, in fact, force me to smile more; and while this may sound inconsiderate, it’s actually helping me. The key to be happy is to pretend to, and then forget you’re pretending.
I know it’s going to be a long road, I can’t even see the end of it but I definitely can sense it, and that’s what heartens me. I also know I won’t change my personality: I’m sensitive and melancholic and I don’t want it to change. Still, I need to start enjoying life and the people that are part of it. I do love life.