Rocks in my backpack and bums on my couch

I recently got back home from a vacation which put me out of range of internet. The vacation was really needed, and I was glad to get away from the stresses of day to day life for a while. Problem was, that jerk Depression stowed away and came along.

I don’t understand why it is that everything can be going great, and all of the sudden it feels like you’re lugging around a backpack of rocks. Sometimes time passes before you even notice you have the rocks. The weight is unbearable. You suddenly realize, wait, where did these rocks come from? Who put all these rocks in my backpack? You were logically happy, everything is going well, and some bastard snuck up and threw rocks in your backpack.

You think you’re managing ok, but then your husband says, why are you walking so slowly? You didn’t think anyone had noticed. You think you’re carrying the rocks ok despite their weight.

You went on vacation to escape stress, and in return, everything comes crashing back. Sometimes when everything calms down, that’s when Depression comes to visit. It’s all like, “hey, so glad to see you aren’t busy, let’s hang out!” Then you spend the next several days/weeks/months trying to kick it off your couch because it’s moved in uninvited, and doesn’t want to leave.

I’ve learned that it’s better to be open with people about my depression. Yes, it’s embarrassing. I know it shouldn’t be, but it is. It’s better to face the guy on the couch that keeps putting rocks in my backpack instead of just hoping he gets a job and moves out and that maybe if I keep carrying the rocks I’ll get used to them. Maybe I’ll get stronger.

Once I regain my footing, I try to fake my way through being normal, I text friends, I get hugs from my husband and son, I exercise, I color, I read, I take my meds, and eventually the guy on the couch gets bored and moves on. I empty some of the rocks out of my backpack and the load becomes manageable again. I’m not naive and I know the couch bum Depression will be back, but maybe I’ll notice him sooner next time. Maybe I can kick him out before he really digs his heels in.

Logic tells me that I’m unaffected by my mother, but that guy on the couch keeps telling me I am.

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