Preface
Since I was a child, my natural inclination has been to share openly – to transparently confess – to process externally via vocal and visual expressions of my truth. I now understand that part of that is due to my difficulty seeing things from the inside. I cannot untangle that which I cannot see, and my outward vision has always been the clearest.
Unfortunately, such unreserved sharing hasn't always been appreciated. Quite often, it was (and still is) misconstrued as selfishly grabbing for attention. Yet, I know my intentions for doing so have been rooted in a genuine desire to connect – to reach beyond the boundaries of my isolated experience and stir recognition in another. Perhaps to feel less alone myself, but also to say 'Look...you're not alone – I feel it, too!'
While I can't claim that my juvenile motives were entirely pure, I know that my most predominant memory of childhood is of an unmitigated frustration at being misunderstood. As the 5th child of 6, I had a lot of other voices and opinions to contend with – a daily barrage of reflections about what was and was not acceptable behavior.
It hasn't been easy.
However open and trusting I once was, as I grew, I learned to better emulate societal norms – to smile, and keep my chin up – to tone-down and redress my emotions into a more digestible, manicured persona. I made every attempt to refine my demeanor to better avoid problematic stigmas. I really did try.
Trouble is, I'm also a terrible liar, and withholding truth is really no different than speaking untruths. Whatever charade I try to uphold – and there have been many – I invariably fail.
All that I've stifled – my un-expressed torment – has quietly eroded my foundation...like black mold, unseen beneath layers of dishonest paint. The masking of true self in patchwork scaffolding has repeatedly led to a dire collapse of the internal structure it so poorly hides.
Without realizing I was doing so, I've suppressed the very medicine that I now know to be the most vital.
In a very real sense, I've made myself sick.
My attempts to conform created a cyclical pattern that I'm only recently beginning to be able to recognize and predict.
A dilution of truths – curtailed expression – an unnaturally opaque, holding of the tongue – followed by an anguished darkness. Then a slow revival – a tearing down of rotting walls – a rebuilding, repair and reclamation – a re-emergence of my most creative, confident self. Then a mis-step or two – some unsettling disruption – a slow-motion stumble – a gradual shutting in and closing off – a recoiling – a dulling of senses – and, always...an excruciating return of the relentless shadows.
In my darkest hours, my soul is trying to disappear. I fully recede – without drawing attention to my vanishing. I don't know how I do it, but I manage to withdraw far too deeply before anyone even notices I'm gone. I just quietly slip out of view.
It's like being in a kind of coma – a state of arrested vitality – a spiritual vacancy – a torpid, melancholic slumber.
Waking Up
In this moment, I'm in the early stages of yet another deconstruction – the part where I slowly begin to remember who I am.
A crucial part of that process is writing – sifting through the mess of my emotional unrest, untangling sentiments and organizing cluttered notions into intelligible language. As I write, it's as though the wisest part of me takes over – like some clever sorcerer's trick, writing bypasses the weakest voices within me, affording me a clearer, more compassionate view. Reading back, I see things I was previously incapable of perceiving.
This time, the writing came first in the form of a song called 'Kaleidoscope Grey'. I've known the deluge of words would soon follow, which it finally did, a few nights ago. Just as I was surprised by the impulse to share my song on this platform, I'm equally (if not more) shocked to find myself drafting this post. Still...the compulsion is strong. However dangerous – I'm willing to risk it.
I sincerely believe the affliction that plagues me is more common than not – that the human condition is an inherently lonely one – each of us doing our best with what we've got – trying too hard to show only the very best of ourselves.
It's time to break the stigma.
What I'm about to share is the most candid glimpse I can offer of how it feels as one begins to stir from a deeply depressive state – as written in a private journal, unintended for public view. I offer this in faith that it will be received with kindness and compassion. I cannot understate the vulnerability of doing so. And yet – I suspect, it is that very truth that will transmute the risk into potent medicine of a kind I might not otherwise have access to.
I thank you, in advance, for being part of my healing.
~ inhale ~
Always the question of how to start. Somehow, after so long removed from this, it feels awkward and choppy – clumsy and disjointed – lacking grace or elegance. Not to say that my writing has ever been fluid as it begins. My fingers become rusty and stiff – my bones and joints settling into some less dexterous, slumbering state.
However cold and clunky these claws feel as they search for letters and sleepily string them together into some kind of meaningful thread, with each pressing down, some bit of weariness is shed. Ever so slightly warmer become my fingers as they begin to remember how to move.
Having established the habitual drawing of attention first to the silences – my pattern of shutting up, then talking about my shut-up-ness before actually uttering anything of relevance or meaning – perhaps I can skip straight to the part where I attempt to extract whatever emotional pus has been festering beneath the hush. To draw out the thing that compels me to sit and fumble over keys – to press against the most tender spots and force a pressurized expulsion.
It's really nothing new – having done this now, more times than I can count. So many times falling mute, wether by choice or by nature, muffling the truth of my anguish, over and over and over, forgetting that such behavior only magnifies the turbulence and lays waste to my dwindling courage. The darkness seems hell-bent on drawing me back in. Finding my way out becomes increasingly arduous as I grow more and more convinced that I'm not worth fighting for.
~ exhale ~
Every time, I promise myself I'll never do it again. I vow to keep writing, to spend time with my guitar, to open my damn mouth and release my pain through my greatest gift – my voice. It doesn't matter how certain I feel when I make such bold agreements, life always finds a way to pull the heavy blankets once again over my eyes, plunging me – millimeter by millimeter – back into vacant darkness.
Once there, and even in the diminishing light, I'm entirely blind to my own capacity to be anything other than mute and destitute – a listless, dragging, flat echo of myself. Rather, the most lifeless, exhausted part of my being takes the wheel and simply refuses to drive.
I become absolutely convinced that I'm experiencing an essential truth about who I am – that, after all, I'm nothing but a meaningless waste of flesh and breath, that even my bones are weak and hideous, that pain is my life sentence – a befitting punishment for having so throughly failed at being a decent, worthwhile human.
How fucking sad is that?! As I type it now, I feel so ashamed – so aware of the insidiousness of those voices. If only the clarity of my awakenings could somehow light my perspective once I fall back into my dreary stupor.
And yet – that is the way of depression – the cruel reality of its conundrum...if remembering were so easy, the forgetting would happen less.
~ inhale ~
It's not so unlike alternately existing on opposite sides of a very thin wall made of two way mirror. From one side, the other is seen so clearly – the distance between is identifiably no wider than a choice – a choice that seems so obvious and simple – as easy as opening a door and stepping through.
From the other side, however, the wall simply reflects the dismal nature of one's surroundings. All that can be seen is an infinitely expanding nothingness, with no discernible way out...no chance of escape. There appears to be no choice, no hope – nothing but more dreariness and despair, and only the faintest memory of ever feeling otherwise.
And so...in that heaviest of places, I make no move in any direction. Instead, I slowly collapse inward, becoming less and less capable of seeing how very near my salvation truly lies. It takes a herculean effort – a whale's share of will – to catch the tiniest glimmer of light in one's periphery and dare to move, ever so slightly, to get a better look.
Now repeat that effort every minute of every single day – willing yourself to keep looking, straining to remember how to see it, to begin to move towards believing it exists – light...levity...meaning and purpose. Somewhere out there, beyond the rippling pain and gripping shadows...LIFE persists.
Somehow – despite the persistence of my amnesia – I always find my way out. Even if those bouts of freedom are hard won and brief....I wake. Again....and again....and again.
~ exhale ~
This time, I feel a different sort of groggy. The addition of chemicals during this last bout changed the game, somewhat. An antidepressant altered my brain – effectively destroying my ability to care.
At first I enjoyed the unfamiliar apathy. I called them my 'care-less' pills – I'd never before known such a complete lack of concern. I was blissfully numb – it very nearly cost me my life.
I suppose I'm grateful – it showed me, without question, that my deep consideration of others is what's kept me going this long. Any and all suicidal ideations, however dire or peripheral, have been held at bay by the fact of my caring so much for those I love. And yet, a significant piece of my depressive pattern is the excruciation of being misunderstood, primarily that of being perceived as caring only about myself.
Indeed, it was the pressing of that age-old, emotional bruise that sent me into autopilot – moving, detached and pragmatic, toward a certain, careless end. Then shockingly back into aware presence at the unexpected sound of a kind soul's voice on the other end of a telephone line – bottles of pills in hand – simply a question of which to take and how much, rather than if to take them at all.
~ inhale ~
My researching mind is what ultimately saved me – I had to know precisely what would happen with each optional overdose. And so I googled each one – percocet, oxycodone, cyclobenzaprine, flexeril, cymbalta, gabapentin, x-strength tylenol – thanks to my painful physicality, I have much to choose from. I just needed to know which combination of pills would be the fastest, relatively painless and least messy for whomever would find me.
As I read through a resulting article outlining the effects of overdose, I recall seeing a question interjected into the body of the text – something to the effect of 'Are you thinking of killing yourself? If so, please click here.'
My memory is unclear – I don't know if I clicked and it dialed directly, or if it offered a # and I dialed manually. All I recall is the phone against my ear – the sound of ringing, then....his voice, and the sobering realization of what I was about to do.
I may never remember all I said to that kindly gentleman (angel), nor what he said to me during that 4 hour, life-saving phone-call. But I'll never forget the moment his voice reached me – like the most gentle alarm, jolting me suddenly into terrified alertness – nor the deluge of shame-filled tears that followed.
Few things have scared me as much as that night – I was so close to actually leaving.
I wish I could say that the risk of me ever returning that place is low or, somehow historical. In truth, that...'lapse of concern', for lack of a better term – it brought attention to my frightening proximity – the thin line that separates my most alive self from my most miserable – that terrifyingly slim distance between life and death is also no wider than a simple choice.
~ exhale ~
On my good days, I remember – my redemption relies on my willingness to choose it. I know, absolutely, that I must consciously choose life in every – single – moment.
The tragedy, is that...when I most need to recall the necessity of that choosing, I seem incapable of doing so. I experience a total paralysis of will – an annihilation of consent. In that place, I sincerely believe I have no choice – that my sorrow is inescapable – that I deserve nothing but a vacuous darkness.
So...as I slowly rub the blur out of my light-deprived eyes – as I blink my surroundings into sharper focus and begin to remember – this time, I make no claims of never again nor declare unreasonable promises of how I'll behave next time.
No – this time, my reawakening is tinged with the wisdom of having teetered on a new kind of precipice. No longer the flighty drama of youth, but the very real, very scary truth of my own mortality and just how fragile it is in my unstable hands.
~ inhale ~
It doesn't happen over night. My journey into and out of depression is comprised of a million micro-decisions, each one altering my course, ever so slightly. My strongest self knows – I'm either imprisoned or liberated by the sum of those choices. How present I am determines the direction each one supports, reflecting either a will to live or...a resigned defeat.
All I can do is hold onto this understanding for as long as I'm able...this time. To wrestle through that choice each morning – to drag myself out of bed – to sit in silent meditation – to stretch out the physical echoes of my inner battles – remember to eat – and keep on choosing....and choosing...and choosing, again.
To repeat, as often and wholehearted as I am able – I CHOOSE LIFE.
I CHOOSE LIFE.
I CHOOSE LIFE.
~ exhale ~
Real Talk
I mean not to insinuate that every person who struggles with depression is solely responsible for their suffering. That is no more true than a cancer patient being at fault for falling ill.
No matter the disease, how one responds to it will always hinge upon individual choice. Even the most miraculous of cures requires the willing participation of the afflicted. However promising the medicine...it is useless unless ingested.
Depression has a way of making a person believe they are incapable of swallowing – that spitting out the remedy is both easier and safer somehow. Choosing self-preservation becomes an act of exceptional courage.
I can only speak to my own experience, in acknowledgement of the role I play in either languishing or thriving. For me, there is no magic pill – only the accumulation of healthy choices to sway the pendulum in my favor – out of reach of the trickster, light-hungry shadows...
...even if only for a brilliant moment or two.
If you notice a friend has gone silent – please reach out.
You have been victim of a @GrumpyCat flag because you or someone else sent money to buy votes from an irresponsible non-GrumpyCompliant service.
@sneaky-ninja and @aksdwi are acting irresponsibly by selling votes to people on their post in the last hours before payout. = 99.99% abuse rate.
Sending money to these bots is also financially supporting for-profit spammers.
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Yes! I most certainly did win, even it it took me a minute to understand that.
You did your thing, and I responded with some legitimate questions for you. I'm offering a direct link as I'd like to believe there's a sensible human somewhere beneath your gruff exterior, capable of intelligent dialogue. I'm pretty sure we're on the same team, that is – if your intentions really are to improve Steemit and combat reward-pool abuse.
I also invite you to scroll up and look at what you flagged. Who knows – you may find that you actually appreciate it.
ps – look how cute you are when you smile. You should do it more often.
YOU NEED TO BE STOPPED.
Could you not, simply just advise people of what you think is a problem?? Do you have to destroy people for not doing things exactly how you want them to???
YOu know whats abuse?? Using your money to cut down people and force them to do things your way. Don't you know what joy it is for a person ...let alone a person with depression--> to finally get more than .50 and recognition for their work?? ARE YOU TRYING TO GET SOMEONE TO COMMIT SUICIDE?!?! ffs.
People tell me my approach is bad but this is gross abuse and tbh you upvoting YOUR OWN COMMENTS only shows how disgusting you truly are.
Wake UP.
YOu are NOT a hero.
YOu are a BULLY.
STOP THIS MADNESS.
Feel free to contribute advising people.
As of right now, im advising people to work together to stop you and other whales from bullying us into submission. These arbitrary rules that you made up are not helping the steemit ecosystem. You are hurting it. The only the strong survive approach doesnt work if we want to go viral.
Love your enthusiasm...
https://discord.gg/kbRkkZF
Are you inviting me to a server that I was already in? Lol thanks buti decided to focus on other efforts. After having disvussions in there i further my stance as being against bidbots alltogether. Sorry. That said grumpycat isnt off the hook for me.. but i will wait ....
haha, guess so lol
oh yea, we have talked. I remember now.
Hey Zipporah... I'm glad I found this post today, a little bird sent me this way and I'm sitting here reading connecting to your words and learning things about you that in many other instances would only be told to the closest of friends.
For being brave, for speaking from your heart.... I give you major props, a virtual hug and also thank you... it takes courage and courage inspires people, so what you are doing is not only telling a story, is also helping others heal their soul.
Maybe, there is a purpose after all... maybe these situations you have lived have not only allowed you to express yourself with words as you have here today, but also with music, which is a language that me and you share.
I noticed that @grumpycat stopped by too... but I want to tell you that you should take the comment and the small flag as an honor badge. In his mind he is simply trying to help steem, and even though we may not agree on the methods, we do agree that there are many users who are abusing the bots. This is not your case, not by a long shot, and I would venture to say that if he reads what you wrote, he would actually appreciate it too and possibly even remove his flag.
But that is not important, whats important is what you have written here today, what is important is that you learn to ignore some of the noise that may surround today's events and focus on this little gem that you have bravely put out there for all of us to read.
I know you don't know me, I know we are not even friends... but I'm proud of you, and I'm grateful that you are here.
Much love
@meno
Oh, @meno – what an endearing way to officially meet you. Of course, I already know who you are – even if I've only submitted one entry into the open mic challenge so far. ;)
Last night, after drafting a decidedly angry post (that I thankfully did not publish right away), I found these comments from you and a few others. I can't tell you how much they touched me.
Your words made me cry. That seems to be happening a lot on here. Something about being seen by total strangers. It does somethin' to ya...
Thank you for taking the time to visit this space – to really take in what I've written – to so generously offer your own words in return. So grateful to have you in my corner.
ps – Forgot to mention! – I did pen a public response to the flagging. Though I didn't mention you all by name, I did acknowledge the role you played in helping me transmute my frustration into something more productive. ;)
This whole thing nearly made me cry of sadness... This one comment nearly made me cry of happiness. It's better than any thing I could say:
@zipporah i am @fuhreresu from the pypt group, i must say that this is really some deep inside stuff being let out into the open and thanks for your personal story which examplifies and escape route for those going through some bad stuff out there, i am following you right now and i want you to please keep on doing your great contribution to humanity with your writings. @fuhreresu
I appreciate your support @fuhreresu. Publishing this piece felt pretty scary, yet somehow necessary. I do hope it reaches those who need to hear it. Thanks for reading and following along. I am grateful.
Thank you for touching the deepest places in me. Absolutely beautiful and real. Following
Smiling at you. Glad to know you appreciate this piece. :)
Thank you @battleaxe! What a sweet GIF. :)
This is so beautifully written, so wonderfully raw and on-point. I am fascinated by your wordsmithing, how you managed to put into words so many of the things I have also felt in my life. Bravo for such bravery and excellence in sharing!
I'm grateful to know it speaks to you in ways that feel familiar. I still feel like I'm reaching for words that don't exist, yet I've been trying to describe these things for decades now. I suppose I'm getting closer to actually conveying the essence of it. Thanks so much for reading. <3
One day, every being on this planet will wake up from their daily sleep. We will all look into the mirror and embrace all that we are now and all that we need become. This is when we all realise how much we are worth and how little the sadness within us needs to affect us. Depression will no longer be a disease or a disorder. It will become only sadness and will pass as quickly as it comes to us, for we are all united as one hooman race. Thank you for sharing. You are loved. I am grateful for your post.
Thank you @ladyreijya. :) What a beautiful, love-filled world that will be. Until then, the best we can do is show up for each other and work towards normalizing the sadness. We'll get there.
No. We should not be normalizing this sadness, we should be normalizing compassion and self love. This is the only way that we can help each other to honor and respect our own emotions. Normalizing sadness is like normalizing the okay to hit the kill switch. We need to tell those we care about that it is okay to talk about or feelings and it is okay for us to feel the way we do. We all have reasons to be sad, but it should not be normalized in the sense that most people would use the word normalize. To do that would mean allowing the pharmaceutical companies to win and leaning on other people to fix our problems instead of healing our ailments ourselves and holding ourselves accountable for our own emotions. I love and honor my fellow hooman race, I just feel we need to take more responsibility for what it truly means to be on this current version of this planet.
Yes....I appreciate your passion. I'm not sure I meant normalize in the way you've interpreted it. Or, perhaps I chose the wrong word. I'm referring to my hope that someday it won't be so awfully stigmatized. Contrary to believing sadness should somehow be done away with, I actually feel it is an imperative part of being human. It's the lack of acceptance of it that turns it into something shameful and unwelcome. I'm reminded of the animated film 'Inside Out' – have you seen it?
Merry Christmas, enjoy the vote!
Thank you, @berniesanders. Much appreciated, however – this post is from 10 months ago. Ooops! I just updated it to include a link to the Discord server I created. I'm guessing that long ass string of votes I'm getting pinged about came along with yours? Kind of hilarious – kind of heartbreaking. Forehead slap! Lovely gesture foiled by infinite editing. If only infinite rewards came along with that feature. Regardless...I am grateful. ;)
Wow, that's terrible to have such a snide bot come along after baring your soul. It was a well done piece and as I'm new here I feel for you in having such a response. I understand wanting to be acknowledged after pouring out your heart. I'm following you and will try not to miss your work, though I'm hardly "a whale".
Thank you, @trufflesrus. Not sure if you're still Steemin', but I appreciate your kind words!
You're such a wonderful writer, Zippy.
I'm at a loss for what to say in response to this post. It's so raw and beautifully written and heart-wrenching. I know some of these feelings you're talking about... I think everyone does to some extent or another. It's scary to feel so powerless and low and unable to escape. That's what gets me.. is that I am irrevocably me and there's nothing I can do about it. Caitycat can't walk away from Caitycat. It can make a person crazy working though all these thoughts.
Anyway, like I said, I'm in awe of your ability to bring words and thoughts and emotions together. You're a beautiful human and I hope you are able to stay in the light this time around. Do let me know if I can help.
Thank you @caitycat. :) I appreciate how sweet you always are, even though we only know each other through this virtual space. I gather you're also a rather lovely human. Glad to have your friendship.
well, my dear i have attempted to get you some love.. its not much but i should still be able to try again tomorrow. I completely related to your approach and your story!!! im bummed that i didnt see this before and get it more attention. The art, the words... the sincerity.. you are beautiful inside and out and so incredibly talented and i cant wait to see more of what you do. I will upvote you all of the days and you can and should be able to use a bot LIKE EVERYONE ELSE and upvote yourself LIKE EVERYONE ELSE anytime you want. <3 u!!!!
You did so much for me last night @limabeing. As I've already told you – I'm not really sure how to thank you for speaking up on my behalf. I felt pretty deflated, but your rallying of the troops made all the difference in the world. THANK YOU.
@limabeing knows where to find me if extra firepower is needed. :)
I just did what I felt was right. Sometimes my rage is very adequately aimed. I'm glad i was able to help in some tiny way but lets be real... your art and your words are what made this lil mission easy. Very easy to support you. Glad you will keep on fighting, writing, drawing, singing and taking awesome pics!!
Jesus, lady, you know how to write. And your experience is not just a common one. Like you said, it is the overriding human condition of loneliness. Some are better equipped to deal with it than others, but nobody escapes it entirely.
Some parts of this I feel were torn right from the darker alleys in my mind where I spent time when I was younger. Only your way of describing it is so much more beautiful.
Some people do not react well when I say this, so take it with a grain of salt if you disagree with this opinion, but when I was going through the kinds of things that you are talking about going through, I found that psylociben mushrooms worked WONDERS for helping me to look inside in a way that was brutally honest and yet nurturing. It enabled me to completely reset my psyche and I have never been the same since.
I am not saying that it will for sure work for you, but if it is interesting to you at all, read the Psychedelic Experience by Ralph Metzner, Richard Alpert, and Timothy Leary. It outlines exactly how to use the mushrooms for the maximum positive benefit, with the least amount of risk in terms of "losing control" or anything like that.
And of course, you can always find me on Discord if you would like to talk more about it. I have helped about a dozen or so other people through the initial phases all the way through their first experience with the mushrooms.
In any case, great job writing this all out in such a beautiful way, and I look forward to reading more from you.
Worry not – I don't shy away from such things. Psylociben and I have had our meetings. I won't go into it here, but...let's just say – psychedelics and I don't mix well, in general. Which is why it surprised me greatly to have found and been open to Ayahuasca. Now there's a plant that's changed my life.
Thank you so much for reading and offering such a sincerely warm reflection. I'm pleased to know my writing touches you. ;)
This is incredibly tender. Thank you for sharing so deeply. I'm floored by the beauty with which you write (even in your journal!) and grateful to you for letting others know we are not alone in our struggle to survive. New favorite quote: "Depression has a way of making a person believe they are incapable of swallowing – that spitting out the remedy is both easier and safer somehow. Choosing self-preservation becomes an act of exceptional courage."
Thank you @shawnamawna – it pleases me greatly to know that my writing is reaching those who can appreciate it. I felt pretty bold as I wrote those final words, yet also crystal clear as to their truthful relevance.
It was pretty scary to publish this piece. It's sincerely the most raw, honest piece I've ever shared... anywhere. For the most part, I've been bolstered by the response. However, having just had grumpycat flag me for using a bid bot that he disapproves of...to boost a post that I believe deserves it, regardless of post age – it makes me reluctant to continue sharing in this way.
Hi @zipporah, I just stopped back to let you know your post was one of my favourite reads and I included it in my Steemit Ramble. You can read what I wrote about your post here.
Join us on Thursdays for Pimp Your Post Thursday at 11am EST or 7PM EST in the Steemit Ramble Discord or:
If you’d like to nominate someone’s post just visit the Steemit Ramble Discord
THANK YOU @shadowspub! I left a comment of gratitude on your ramble. To reiterate – You're amazing. Thank you so much for including me! :)
Openly speaking. I think 99.9 of us suffer from this disease and although some of us are in a more severe state than others, some get through life ok, some never experience it because they're born into a busy life already spoken for them and some of us who need to find ourselves in life tend to feel it and figure out if at all possible what to do with it. In some case, I've noticed that it is so severe that a person cannot put a bandage on it because it will pop up for them through anger and rage therefore affecting their relationships and life in a really forceful way. I'm not an expert by any measure but the fact that we are all now connected by the Internet, I think this allows us to share this and open our eyes to the reality that depression is something we are predetermined to experience either by DNA as some of us are disposed to it because who we are born (suicidal, drug, alcohol abuse and such parents) and or will become depressed as we experience a trauma in our lifes. Of course, depression and being emotional go hand in hand and some of us tend to be more emotional than others but in this life, being emotional is a form of weakness that people see in you. But in a sad comment, I must end on a happy note. For those of us who can smile and provide good energy who need it, let us not forget what a special power that is that requires no money or product or app. Share a smile, let someone go before you, say hello to a stranger, be selfless - it may just make someone's day. :)
It appears you've left the platform, but I want to acknowledge your contribution to this thread. I appreciate you taking the time to offer your thoughts. I do agree – I think it's far more prevalent than most people realize or want to admit. Best I can do is be honest – with both myself and others – in hopes that it will help break the stigma. I hope you're well.
Sneaky Ninja Attack! You have been defended with a 13.60% vote... I was summoned by @zipporah! I have done their bidding and now I will vanish...Whoosh
Much love to you. I relate on so many levels. Im trying to resteem this but it isn't giving me the option.
Oooh, miss Serena. How'd I miss this? Thank you for being so lovely...always. tip!
Hi @paintingangels! You have received 0.1 SBD tip from @zipporah!
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I read your grumpy post and i got directed here, i read this post. I cant vote this anymore but please feel free to send me a direct message over discord when you write pieces like this one, i can make a post go trending and i dont charge anything for votes.
Nice post from the heart, takes a lot of balls to write something like this, dont you dare leaving the platform, we need people like you.
I sincerely appreciate this @anomadsoul. Seems I missed a whole lot of comments here, including yours. It was a pretty emotional moment for me. Guess I can forgive myself for missing some things. At any rate, I'm grateful for your kind words and generous offer. Now that I know, I might just reach out over on Discord sometime. Hope you're well! (I'm clearly still here!)
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I am not as brave as you to describe the experiences of fighting the demon, that's what I label it. I too have never found a "happiness pill", pills that seem to numb the thoughts but never ease the pain. I know in my heart if it wasn't for my kids I wouldn't be here. I know some people can't wrap their head around those thoughts. I know I have to keep existing for my kids and now my grand kids, to try and ensure they don't have to go through what I've been through and to lead them down a happier, mentally healthier path. Thank you for sharing. I am going to go up vote your comment back to me since this article is past seven days old and to get around that grumpy cat if he tries to stake a share. (I hope that gives you a smile)
I'm just finding this now, @sunlit7. Thank you for also sharing so candidly. I think it's important to try to break the stigma. <3 I hope you're doing well these days. tip!
You are welcome, I felt a sudden connection with you after reading that, it really hit close to home. I also hope you are doing better with all that you have been dealing with the last couple weeks. Stay strong.
Hi @sunlit7! You have received 0.1 SBD tip from @zipporah!
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@trufflepig
Thanks for calling @sorin.cristescu! Here is a small upvote for this post and my opinion about it.
To my mind this post is at least 8 SBD worth and should receive 36 votes.
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TrufflePig@zipporah, this spoke to me on many different levels.
How you made yourself sick: As a fellow creative/intuitive, I came to that realization too. As children, when we suppress our gifts, they make us sick (once we're older). We hold the gifts down, drowning them, burying them, letting them rot, until they become a curse. The only way to "lift the curse" is to confront that part of ourselves that we buried, and allow our gifts to grow. Since the gifts were buried, in the soil of our darkened hearts, that pain can be used as fertilizer, and we can use those painful experiences to make our gifts not only grow, but flourish.
I know that's full of cliches, but depression often is. You sink into those cliches. They become so profound, because you're living them.
At least, that's how it was for me.
Thank you for your thoughts. You've helped me realize some things.
It's like I was reading my own mind. Spelunking into my own gnarled heart.
Dearest @cainallen – it appears you may have left the platform, which really is a shame as you're clearly a wonderful writer. <3 I'm glad to know my words touched you – that you found my anguish relatable. After all, isn't it really the truth of being human? I think we all suffer, whether or not we're able to give voice to that pain. I don't mind your cliches; they're actually quite fitting. • In case you find your way back to Steemit – please know that I appreciated these words from you. tip!
Hi @caincallen! You have received 0.1 SBD tip from @zipporah!
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I finally got around to having a moment peaceful enough to read this properly - I apologize for taking so long, lets just say - Life has been uuuum interesting. Thank you so much for sharing this with me, I can completely relate to your path and it struck really close to home...
Dear miss @breezin – my beloved Thing 1. <3 My sincere apologies for not replying sooner. It's been a pretty insane few months for me. Sending love...even if a little late. tip!
I hear you, you amazing woman! No worries, and for what it is worth it has been very interesting on this side too (crazy wise) loads of interesting life lessons being flung around inn the midst of semi organised chaos.
Much Love!!
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Hello, I think you'll enjoy participating in my challenge. Guess the location and win 0.1 SBD. go to my latest post, guess the location and win 0.1 SBD. Where Is This
Seriously? The author of this post poured her heart out, exposed raw and frightening feelings, laid her soul bare. Yet, all you can manage to say attempts to redirect attention to your own post...? I am appalled at the selfishness and lack of appreciation for what she labored to produce.
Sad but true.
Thank you for your words.
But it´s the same shit on other platforms.
People talk about a lost relation or the loss of a beloved person.... and other people just hit "LIKE".
What´s the point?
If you like the content of someone and do not have anything to contribute, just hit the upvote button and shut up.
But selfishness and lack of appreciation is very common these days....
My dear – you are such a fiercely gentle warrior. I love you. tip!
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Ha! Both my failed tips were for you. How perfect! Fixing that now. tip!
Hi @thekittygirl! You have received 0.1 SBD tip from @zipporah!
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