Written in the Stars

Awareness is The Holy Grail, I have it in bagfuls, so why am I not a healed Soul for knowing my whys and wherefores? Because my struggles are real. My struggles are really quite justified. My struggles are pretty understandable. In recognition of my struggles, I see the place for my depression. In seeing the place for my depression, I have experienced a relief not felt before.

I have always phrased my journey as ‘ trying to find a way to Live’, and the living I have sought, has been as a Self unrecognisable to Myself. I have punished and pressurised for not being the wife/daughter/sister/friend that the living Me should be. The Ideal Me is hindered by depression is it not? Maybe not. Why should I battle to be an expected, required self, instead of a true version, the version with a story to tell, the slightly damaged, hurting, manifestation of my past, Self?

I have always rebuked the thesis that my depression is a part of me, to see it as such would have been to admit defeat. But now I have found this kinder, more gentle, notion to nurture. There is a reason I struggle with Life, to me, my battles make sense. My depression is not a flaw, a choice, a vermin. My depression is not to be castigated, chastised, shamed. My depression is my past and present, and as such, a part of my future. We are all made up of stories, why should depression be any different? Why should wellness mean the complete eradication of this one story?

These words signify no bond to my depression, there is no love lost between us. What these words do say, is that I no longer see my depression as something to be outed and publicly flogged. Just as my stretched and saggy stomach tells the story of my babies, my depression has been written in my stars, and tells a story too. The ending has not been penned, but when it is,  it will be one which is sympathetic and empathetic to my challenging mental health.

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