12/04/2017

mental health|to wallow


I always used to think that wallowing made me weak. I would let myself be sad and then force myself to move on before I was ready. So, as you can safely assume, I never actually healed from anything. I've since learned that I need to let myself wallow in all my sadness for as long as it takes.

I've started appreciating my depression, especially of late, and allowing it to, in a way, control me. The other day, overwhelmed by life, by people who lie and hurt others as if on purpose. Stressed and scared over turmoil that never seems to cease. Saddened by the state of the world and those who are a part of mine. Too depressed to feel like I can really go on. And so I didn't. Not really.

I did what needed to be done. Braved crowds {because it always feels like an act of bravery to do so}. And then, when I reached my limit, I went home, curled up on the couch and watched an endless stream of Hallmark Christmas movies alone. Usually I feel guilty about doing things for myself, for allowing myself to be depressed and wallow in it. But not anymore. I let myself be and instead of taking days to recover it took hours, if that, before I felt normal again.

I turned the air conditioner on low, wore my favourite Lady & The Tramp pj's, wrapped myself in a blanket, drank green tea, ate chocolate and home made cheese fries. Bailey and I had snuggles. The Christmas tree lights were on. I played with stickers and texted friends. And, sure, it wasn't a cure all and my head still pounded of the stress I knew was going to come in the days that followed but I didn't cry, nor feel the need to hold them in.

I've since come to the conclusion that wallowing is the best thing for my head. And Hallmark movies are cheesy but, kind of, the best medicine of all. 

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be nice. unless you can be cake and then always be cake.