Monday, April 16, 2012

Stoats may very well be my anti-depressant.

Ever had one of those days? For the past several years, more often than not... I find myself saying this over and over. I began recognizing my depression in high school Few and far between, I'd have these "funks." I usually chalked it up to the drama that surrounds school... friends, stress, schoolwork, parents, life. I was able to pull myself out of it within a fair amount of time. No big deal. Near the end of my senior year and in to my college year (not plural because I just went for one) it began to worsen. I cut myself frequently. Even that, I thought was maybe because I was seeking attention- since that's why so many people say about self injury.

Now married for six years and a decent amount of "life" thrown at me, I find myself in these funks for days, weeks, and months. I no longer pull myself out, maybe I forgot how. It doesn't mean I don't try. Sometimes it takes all I have to get out of bed, to do anything beyond sitting in the chair, staring at the TV (or at the wall). It takes great strength and courage just to answer a phone call.

Everyone says I need to go talk to someone about it. What do I talk about? I haven't had a bad life, no life trauma... am I just lazy and bratty? Some probably think so. It has begun to affect everything. They aren't kidding when commercials for antidepressants talk about the physical pain, not just the emotional. They aren't lying when they comment on how it ruins relationships. It's a very lonely feeling, really. A sense of hopelessness, of doubt, regret, and sadness. Depression overtakes everything in your life.

Every so often though, I am reminded that I am here for a reason. That I need to stay here. That I have talents, that I am not stupid or ugly. That people do like me and that I don't always need to wait for the bad to happen. I am reminded that I have a purpose in this world and that I am loved. I am reminded that while it may take awhile, there will absolutely be a better day.

...and I'm proud to say I've been reminded of this for a few weeks now. So for anyone else who deals with the same thing, just remember this:

Maybe one day, as a personal therapy, I will discuss it more. For now, I want to soak up being content and not hurting. I want to be reminded that yes, depression IS a lying bastard and it is very, very real. Soon, Chris and I will be looking into therapy. For me mostly, but also for him to understand what I am going through. To be able to cope himself and help me through it the best he can.

And, since I am in a happy mood I wanted to share something that I hope will make you happy too. When I first saw this, I thought "what is this creature?!?! I must have one!"

So I did some Google searches and discovered it was called a "stoat." Definition: Closely related to a weasel and freaking adorable. Ability to turn anyone's day fantastic. (Probably until it bites you.)

Baby stoat... because holy crap, I'm dying from the cuteness. Come to think of it, if this thing walked up to me and asked if it could gnaw off my left hand, took all the money in my wallet, and drove off in my car... I wouldn't care, because I was able to gaze into its' adorable face for any amount of time.

So on that note... if anyone wants to make all my dreams come true:

Buy me a stoat, like, now. Thanks in advance. I accept taxidermied ones too... because then I could put it in barbie clothes and display it proudly on my mantle (to which my husband will protest.)

(I don't care if he says no actually. He wants to put a stupid deer head on the wall. Why couldn't I have a stoat on the mantle? In the winter, I could put a little parka on it and call it Stoat in a Coat.)

(Which has a nice ring to it. Kind of Dr. Seuss-y.)

(Everyone likes Dr. Seuss.)

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