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Bad Patches: Why This Took Me So Long to Write

My depression comes in patches. Some extreme highs, some extreme lows and some patches of normality. Some last longer than others. Eventually, after a really bad patch, I feel the fog starting to fade. I am able to make my way out of it for a while. When things in my head start to feel like they’re returning to some sort of normality, I have the energy to pick my pen back up and start to plan blog posts. I rediscover the motivation and passion I feel towards writing about mental health and telling my story.

But what about the rest of the time? I haven’t posted on here in 2 months because I haven’t been able to bring myself to even consider brainstorming ideas, never mind sit and spend any time writing anything out. How could I possibly waste energy on that when I could take a nap, or find someone to binge drink with, right? When I’m in the midst of a really bad patch, my life revolves around my unhealthy coping mechanisms, and resting too much, which is damn near the hardest cycle to crawl out of.

I still haven’t made my way out of the bad patch I’m currently in. I have good days along with bad, but the weight on my chest is a near enough constant lately. So I decided to write today. Something simple.

But it’s not simple. Every word I am typing feels like my hands have weights on them, and pulling inspiration out of the fog in my brain feels like an impossible task. The point is, it is difficult. Even the things you feel the most passion for in the world can feel distant, and the things you normally enjoy doing just feel tedious. So you stop doing them.

Right now, I miss running. I miss enjoying getting to the gym. I miss wanting to roll my yoga mat out twice a day just because it makes me feel good. I miss writing for the sake of it. I miss walking around my beautiful village, just to enjoy the scenery. I miss being creative. I miss staying in touch with my friends and family and looking forward to plans I have.

I miss all this, because right now they all feel a thousand miles away from where I am at. I like to think I will get back to them eventually (cue motivated blog post!) but it doesn’t stop them feeling like another life for now.

I guess I just wanted to remind everyone that, as much as I write about ways to cope and how to stay healthy, sometimes you can’t cope. I don’t like to encourage the idea of putting off taking responsibility for your mental health, but I wouldn’t see the point in trying to run an honest mental health blog if I never straight up admit that sometimes, it is too hard. And sometimes, that is okay.

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