A few kinks in the rope, but doing okay

      When I talked to a severely depressed friend, I started thinking about how I used to be. I remember how life was when every day was a struggle, an exhausting battle. Always hating myself, avoiding and running away from problems, having mental battles over every matter from semantics to my childhood to school. 

       And really, the biggest change was that I started believing I deserved to be happy, embracing myself, and finding a support group. A support group that's just been growing and growing. A few years ago, I had exactly one understanding friend. Now, I have a few, and that's more than enough. My friends from DS have been invaluable too, thank you thank you thank you. 

      Still, I know I can't help that severely depressed friend on my own. It would be far, far better if he had a support group, a therapist. I won't delude myself into thinking it's my responsibility or that I can heal him 100%. I know he's broken, and I KNOW he's hurting. And in a healthy way, I've distanced myself a little; other's pain isn't my pain anymore. I find I can observe with more perspective and provide better advice. Yes, it still hurts, but I've accepted that it's not my problem to solve. 

     I still have anxiety attacks and bouts of depression, but in a way I've accepted those too. Not resigned to them, but accepted that they're part of ME at the moment and I have to work with them and through them and eventually, maybe past them. I've accepted that I need help sometimes, and that I need to make adjustments to the schedule for myself, that I need to take a break and eat. I've accepted that therapy is a good option for me. I deserve to be happy. 

     (ps, I'm also working on taking the "probably"s and "maybe"s and "I think"s out of my writing. writing in a passive tone gives less strength to your words. I want conviction! I want strength!)