You Showed Me Kindness In A Sea Of Monsters: Loving Yourself Through the Depression (Revisited)

Flavor of the Day: Diamond Tips Pre-Roll: Animal Sherbert & Raspberry Cookies

Music Vibes: Holding Out for A Hero-Frou Frou

I'd like to talk about how I've been applying "Trust the Process," inspired by Macie Van Fleet, hair & makeup artist, in my own life. I've been trying to let my controlling mind chill, trusting the process of my life while I search for my positivity & drive again. (It's funny that when I revisit many of my articles, they relate to my present life & sometimes my own words give me the hope I need.)

I watched the Netflix Show, Maid, which may be hard to watch for those who've experienced domestic violence, but to me was a good show, although slow in some parts. The way they portrayed Alex's depression felt all too familiar. Feeling alone—like a dark hole or cave—unable to find motivation for even the simplest tasks, numb, but somehow not numb at the same time. Watching that scene made me want to cry, because that’s exactly how I’ve been feeling—& for the first time in a while, I felt seen. I felt like someone knew how I feel when I describe my darkness.

Between the season changing & not having consistent work, it's been hard to stay motivated & positive, & I can't even grieve OM's death the way I feel like I should. I try to cry because I miss our 13-year-old pitty, but I can't. I can't find my emotion that I should feel as a human. I don't want to go anywhere, I don't want to do anything, the dishes piled up, & for a while, I felt like I had all of these dreams, but I was just no longer human. I was Alex—curled in the fetal position at the bottom of that deep, dark hole. No matter how clean I wanted my house, how much I wanted to socialize, or how much I wanted to work, I just couldn't pull myself out of my cave.

My depression demon continually haunts me, but that's when I try to reach out to my core people the most. I've learned to be honest with them, so that if I am in a place I can't bring myself back, they have that emergency ladder to either help pull me out, or sit with me until I am ready to be alive again.

I kept telling myself, "Trust the Process, it will get better." I praised myself for doing the bare minimum because that's all I could do. I would get out & do fun things, but I just felt like I was drawn back to my home, my safe place. I tried to be comforting to Daughter, who's had a shit year & lost her doggo too, but I just felt like I was cold & emotionless, like she deserves someone who knows how to feel & express emotions fully.

I couldn't drive myself to more than the bare minimum, & although I tried to refuse to feel guilty about it, knowing my depression demon won't last, I still did, & I always will feel guilty that I'm not pushing myself hard enough. I'm hard on myself when I see my humanity glaring blatantly in the mirror, especially when it feels like it's something I shouldn't be going through.

Slowly, I felt myself coming back, slowly I walked from my cave out into the sunshine. My heart feeling lonely, but my mind thinking of everything I dream of doing, my dream business, my dream body, my dream house, my dream life. I would picture my dream, but I would make excuses not to write, or work out, or even shower. Even though depression is a very human illness, I still like to believe I’m as nearly invincible as Wonder Woman. I knew that to chase my dream, I had to take steps forward—even if it was one at a time. I just couldn’t.

I would look at my laptop & do everything but write. Writing is my dream, & I was neglecting it. I knew I would always come back, I knew that I am enough, but then, as the metaphorical sun shone on my face, me trying not to lose my faith, but needing a change, it happened. I felt motivated to clean, to leave the house, even if it was a quick trip, & to write. I felt motivated to be alive—to crank up the music & live again.

I tried not to worry about failing, I tried trusting that I'm doing my best & I'm working my hardest. I tried having faith in myself & my life again. I smiled up at the real sun on a crisp fall day, enjoying the beautiful colored leaves, & I slowly started to love life again.

Life is working in my favor.

Getting good news about a possible job & a friend showing up for some laughs was the push in the right direction I needed. We got way too stoned, not realizing the pre-roll I had was infused. (Thank Goddess for Hemp) Even though I didn't make mom of the year award, I was glad to have a friend there to laugh with me while we tried to lose our high, so that we could drive Daughter to her activity. Don't judge, this is just the second week of this after-school activity & I'm still getting used to having to pick her up!!

The good news is another part-time job that will hopefully be what my life needs. I'm not going into too many details, but it happened at the most opportune time. I hope it will help me get into my new routine & be the start of getting me all of the way out of my funk.

I keep thinking how both my blog just keeps growing, even though it's slower than I wanted, it's still growing, & I have to acknowledge & appreciate that. I tell my loved ones to give themselves credit, but I forget to do the same for myself. (Beautiful Disaster Lit has been around for six years this year!)

My home is my cave, good & bad, but I look around at it & I'm just thankful that we've had a home for this long. I'm thankful for my reliable car. I'm thankful for CM (Crystal Meth) & DC, our cats, who each have their own personality that I wouldn't change. (Sadly, CM disappeared a little over a year ago & all I can do is hope that she found a loving home that spoils her, even though deep down, I know that is unlikely.)

I'm thankful for Daughter & everything she is, even if raising a teenager is still tough. (I truly do miss this little home of ours that we lived in for thirteen years. So many memories, I cried hard when I left. I no longer have the issue of being unable to cry, now I am a big, huge, teary, sap & I hate it! Fuck feelings. Yes, I know that all of the feelings are healthy when you learn to manage them, but they still suck!)

I look at my life & wonder—why don’t I trust the process more? I am so damn fortunate, & I have always had faith that things will work out, one way or another, & they have. We may not have a mansion with a moat, but we have a home. I have a car that I love & it takes me places that I want to travel to. I have worked hard & may have fucked up more times than I'd like to remember, but we still have a pretty damn good life & we have the people that are here to stay. (Years later, my life looks a lot different. Daughter being out of the house & me navigating the RV life that I am completely over, but seem to be stuck in. Don't get me wrong, I love my Betty, but I'm tired of living in her.)

Things happen for a reason & even if it isn't what I planned, even though somebody up there seems to laugh at all of my plans & toss them over their shoulder saying, "This is what's really going to happen." I still need to "Trust the process." Even if I am in the dark despair of depression, even if I am working my ass off, a gerbil on a wheel going nowhere, I am going somewhere & I'm always moving forward.

If you’re in your own cave right now, please know you’re not broken & you’re not alone. Reach out to someone you trust, take the smallest step you can today, & give yourself permission to move at your own pace. Healing isn’t linear, but you’re still moving forward—even when it doesn’t feel like it.

So from the bottom of my heart, thank you all for being a part of my process & being by my side as we watch my rollercoaster life & all of its twists & turns. If you’d like to keep following along, please subscribe so you don’t miss future pieces. Don't forget to start loving yourself through the depression. I love you guys, you're fucking amazing.

🖤💋💨