Hello world! Debbimouse calling!

Oh jeez, well I guess I’m here now. Been meaning to start a blog for a while, but tumblr put me off.  As in WAY off. Blogging it itself is a mere matter of self gratification, it is a matter of self obsession, the entirely human belief out there that someone somewhere wants to read what I think about. Complete bullshit of course. I know that.

So… What am I doing here? Good question, and one I’m currently asking myself. Maya told me I should keep a diary of negative thoughts I have, I guess to track my thought patterns, but you know? I don’t want to do that. Who actually wants to write about all the negative things in their life? I sure as hell don’t. I don’t need a list of everything that depresses me in the world. And that’s why I’m writing this; my positive thought blog. So many moments in life feel profound and perfect and other. What else am I going to do with them? Smear them all over facebook as per usual? Mmmm, being called an attention seeking liar. Doesn’t everyone love that? I just want a space to think, and now this is going to be it.

I want to track my path out of depression and disability. So that others can be inspired by it and feel like it isn’t always endless. I am not at the bottom of The Pit, but it wasn’t so very far off so very long ago.

So what does depression feel like? Nothing like any other kind of upset. Nothing anyone who has not suffered can understand. It is not just an emotion, emotions can be controlled. It is a state of existence. Every time I breathe, it is depression. Everything I eat, everywhere I go, everything I do or say is woven together into the suffocating net of depression that presses down on you making you feel unbearably heavy.

What does chronic pain feel like? Have you ever had tooth ache? That sharp painful constant ache that you can ignore until you bite down into something and it stabs and hurts and makes you wince and cry out in pain. Times that by about a thousand and make it constant. The pain NEVER ENDS. The pain is unbearable at times and at others it just ticks constantly, like a dripping tap. It lives in my hip and back and knee, keeping me out of work as efficiently as the anxiety disorder keeps me out of further education.

What does addiction feel like? Like no other hell. Your veins burn and cry out for another hit of the blessed painkillers that are both your demons and your guardian angels. Your skin itches and your head aches, your throat feels like sandpaper and your mouth is as dry as a bone.

I live a privileged life, I have a house, I am fed, I have a loving mother who cares for me. And yet. I would swap for the poor life in a shack, half starved and an orphan if it gave me back my body and my mind. I would forgo all my westernized comforts if I could RUN and DANCE and and…. Live. I am the bird in the cage with the broken wing, crying over memories of blue skies.

BUT I must stay strong. There may be an end yet. Maybe. I may never dance again, but maybe I will walk. I may always cry a little, but maybe I will smile too. I am yet young. Too young so so many say. Too young for this pain and suffering. Too young to be such an old person. Seen too much and been hurt too much. Maybe someday there will be a reason and a rhyme to this world. I hold fast to that light, like my star shining in the heavens, always guiding me home.

Debbimouse, over and out.


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