You are not faster than your feelings.
Listen to me read this blog post!
I woke up with fog on my brain and a darkness swarming in my soul.
This happens from time to time.
Depression doesn’t check your calendar.
It is a spontaneous acquaintance who will show up whenever they want and stay longer than they are welcomed.
The darkness is heavy and the fog is blinding.
“When will you leave?” I asked.
No response.
Depression has selective hearing.
But I’ve learned how to get through to it.
We all handle what handles us differently and I knew what I needed to do: lean in.
You cannot outrun how you feel.
Believe me, I’ve tried.
You are not faster than your feelings.
I’ve learned that I cannot sit at home with the pain, I have to take it on an adventure.
So, off we went.
I threw on my favorite hoodie, grabbed the keys, and we drove to town.
Sometimes I drive in silence.
Sometimes I speak to God.
Today it was windows down with the music loud.
On days like this you need to do things that help you to keep going.
And what helps me when I begin to feel too much?
“One chocolate frosting donut with sprinkles, please,” I said to the woman behind the counter.
“But, sir, you are a 33-years-old man. Wouldn't you like something a little more manly? How about a maple bacon bourbon donut with gunpowder and tobacco?” is what the woman behind the counter didn’t say.
That’s what my brain said.
On days like this you have to be careful what voices you listen to.
The combination of fog and darkness will tell you things that are not true.
It’s easy to believe the lies.
I woke up with the lies.
“You’re behind.”
“You’re going to fail.”
“You’ll never amount to anything.”
“Everyone is doing better than you.”
“It’s not going to be okay.”
Depression knows the perfect thing not to say, but says it anyways.
I grabbed the chocolate frosting donut with sprinkles and walked down to the edge of the lake.
The sun shone bright as the blue sky pushed the white clouds from east to west.
There is nothing worse than when the world matches your insides.
Thankfully today was not dark and foggy.
“Keep finding the good,” I told myself.
I stood alone and breathed in deep.
“You’re okay.”
Sometimes you have to tell yourself what you need to hear.
“You’re okay.”
Sometimes you have to tell yourself what you need to hear again.
It’s true.
I was.
Life wasn’t perfect, but I was okay.
I was alive and free and standing beneath the sunshine on the edge of the water with a chocolate frosting donut with sprinkles.
I was okay.
And that’s what I am leaning into.
