Election and Mental Health

If you've been reading my blog for a while, you may know that I am currently experiencing different levels of depression, and have been for quite some time. There's a lot of factors that go into this, including my history of clinical depression, but it would be silly to ignore the elephant in the room (and I'm not talking about Trump! As repulsive and unseemly as he may be...) 

COVID restrictions and quarantine continues trudging along in America, along with the apprehension that was election season. Luckily, we did get a Biden-Harris administration, which I am excited about, but the state of our country and our world is very much still in flux.

Here's the reality of my situation: much like our country, I'm on the right path but there's a long way to go. 

Untitled

 

I'm not so ironically titling this post "untitled", because I don't have the energy to think right now. I don't have the energy to come up with a theme, or a plan, or a post. All I can do, in this moment, is listen to the click clack of my laptop keys as I sputter out another post, typing, writing, and trying.

I've written about my depression and my depressive episode in many of my previous posts. It has been taking over me and swallowing me whole. And I am trying, so hard, to be hopeful.

I had a few days of good. A few good days. Joe Biden FINALLY won the election, alleviating my anxiety if only for a bit. I got to be with my parents when the news came in. I got to call my grandma and deliver the news. And for a few days, things were good.

But that's the tricky thing about mental illness. I guess part of me knew the darkness would seep back. The nightmares are still here, my anxieties playing out folktales in my unconsciousness. 

I can still smile, even if it feels forced. I still know, deep down, that my writing is meaningful not only for me but for others. I know I am not alone in this, that none of us are. As lonely and empty as depression can feel, I am overflowing with love and support.

I am managing. I am getting out of bed. I am asking for help-- from my parents, from my sister, from my friend. I am reminding myself of the truths I know but cannot feel. The truth that I am loved, supported, beautiful, and powerful.

And with this, I settle back into what I know: I write. I type and I listen to the click clack of the keys. I drink water. I tell myself I will be okay, because I will be. That's all I can do right now.

And that's plenty.

With love,

Rivi