You said I’d change in two years
Said that I’d move on in two years
Couldn’t go off on your adventure,
For fear I wouldn’t be here.
I’m still here after two years,
Couldn’t heal after two years,
Still have all my pain
Still have all my fears.
And you left me here.
I’ve always known I’ve had depression. I’ve had it a good long while. It can be very crippling, like now. Now is pretty crippling. I didn’t even realize why until WordPress told me it was my two year anniversary about two weeks back. I created this blog a week or two before the most painful break up I’ve experienced. I’ve been single since then.
To this day it bothers me. It hurts. A lock was put over my heart, and no one gets in. And I don’t get it. It’s been two years. I get over this by now. I’ve found someone new by now, even if it was two weeks long. Sometimes I wonder if that relationship was my last chance. If she was my last shot. Because I couldn’t make it work, I’m stuck with a life of writing, godparenting, and mission trips. It’s not horrible, by any means. There are significantly worse fates. But it’s been pretty hard getting to sleep these past few nights. It gets really hard to be motivated when no one’s there to say it’ll be okay. I mean, my parents would, but it’s not the same.
I am a naturally happy person. When I get drunk I’m all giggles, but I don’t want to be a drunk. When I fart I’m giggles. I’m okay with farting. I know the depression will lessen, I do not have suicidal thoughts, I know what my purpose is, my trust is in God and He has been pretty good to me, but it just hurts. A lot. While I’m grateful November no longer held any power over me, it seems late January is a cesspit of painful reminders.