A few weeks back I was officially diagnosed with depression. Didn't come as a big surprise to be honest. Once again it was liberating. That overwhelmed person, too tired, so exhausted, is not me. The immense need for sleep? Even during the day? A symptom! My insane craving for sweets? Another symptom!
None the less I needed to let this settle for a bit before I "told the world". Matter of fact, I think I already told my 2 faithful readers. Why not tell straight away? Well. I am okay with suffering form depression. I am just not sure my surroundings will be. Why should I care? Well. Because for too many of them depression and suicide come hand in hand. Not for me. I have not once considered taking my own life. Self harm? Well, if you count overeating yes, but other than that? No. I am not sure if I am ready for a bunch of friend watching my every move to make sure I don't jump off the next bridge.
I guess what they say is true. I am a strong woman. I am a depressed hoarder, but my kids are fed and have clean clothes, the house has been a lot worse than it is now, the kids get rides to activities and support with school work. James and I are TOTALLY pulling this off.
I am strong. The crying is symptom. This, too, will pass. And once it is over, I will be stronger because of it!
Realizing I was a hoarder was both a shock and a relief. A shock, because nobody wants to have a mental disorder. A relief, because my situation finally had a name. I found people who could relate. Knowing the problem helps solving it. I can step aside and look at the situation from a more neutral point of view. Why am I blogging about it? 2 reasons. 1. Putting my thoughts into words helps me think more clearly. 2. If this helps just one, who is like me, see the light it was more than worth it!
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