This morning I hid. After getting after my eight-year-old for not listening and being disrespectful (something he’s been doing a lot of lately) I went in my room, shut the door, got back in bed and hid. I just couldn’t face the world or my kids.
There are a lot of good things happening, and I’m trying to remember that. I am grateful for the good and the blessings. Remembering to be grateful definitely helps, but gratitude doesn’t just cure mental illness. There are also a lot of struggles going on right now, and I have sunk further and further into depression the last week or so. I feel like I’m not where I should be and that I’m not doing enough or being enough. I’m not being a good enough mom. I’m not being a good enough friend. I’m not being a good enough neighbor. I’m not being a good enough fiance. I’m not being a good enough person.
I wish I could find some sort of lesson, some sort of inspiration in all this. But I can’t right now. I suppose that is the nature of depression.