I’m over at Deeper Story today writing about those awesome Christmas cliches that people like to hang up all over their houses. You know the ones.
And also, I’m writing about Depression at Christmas. And expectations. And when you feel like you’re it all wrong.
I hope you’ll join me there. Here’s how it starts:
That was the year I was underwater.
Christmas was happening, as it always happens, but it was somewhere above me. The lights blurred and the songs broke muffled and distorted through the surface of the water that I couldn’t seem to swim out of.
It hadn’t been long since we’d named it – that thing that had been quietly erasing me. Depression. I had only been in therapy a few months, and I’d only just started with those little white pills – the ones meant fix the tangled mess in my brain.
Day by day, I was edging toward wellness, but it would take time. I was so far-sunk in the whole thing. The water felt a million miles deep…