So like I mentioned earlier, there's a lot of junk going on, lots of heaviness that I'm learning to wade through. One thing about me is that I hate asking for help. I want to be able to do it all on my own, keeping others at arms' length. I don't want to burden others with my problems. And who would care enough to want to help me? I just want to simmer in my turmoil.
But I've found that I can't do this alone.
I've been seeing a counselor for the past couple of months who suggested that I was probably depressed. So she referred me to a clinician, and I've started a low dose of anti-depressants. Will I be on them long term? I don't think so. But as they both expressed to me, it's important to use them as a tool to help me get past this dense fog that I'm in.
Besides the help from the pros, I've been overwhelmed with the sense of love and support that has been so graciously covering me. From long talks while eating salads locked outside of our church, sweet texts and emails from lovely friends, and sheer outpourings of love...I've been really blessed.
The meds are kicking in, the days are getting brighter, and I'm getting stronger. I'm like Mike Tyson hyped up on happy pills.
And yes, I can rock a face tattoo.