If I were a car engine, I'd need my oil changed.
You know what? Screw it. That line up above is the start of a blog post I wrote a few minutes ago about putting one foot in front of another, about soldiering onward despite being tired and foggy. And then I deleted it. Because that's crap.
I need to stop performing normal. It's no way to live. So tonight I'm going home and telling my husband "I'm not okay." And I'm calling my therapist, who I've neglected to see in about a month and a half, and telling her "I'm not okay." I refuse to believe it has to be like this forever. I miss joy and I'm going to stop blaming myself for not feeling it the way I once did.
Who's with me?
Here's the Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance home page.