I started the year with hefty goals.
I also promised to focus on the successes, not to dwell on the failures.
I'd like to pretend that I'm doing well with that. And maybe in some ways I am.
I've also been struggling. More than I thought possible. More than I have in several years.
January has always been a bit of a rough month, but February has historically been much worse. The first time I realized that I had a tendency for depression was my sophomore year of high school. It was the first weekend in February. I remember feeling helpless and hopeless. And all alone.
This continued the next three years, and there were many other times that were difficult. But that first weekend in February? Haunts me to this day, nine years later.
So, I'm struggling to understand why now? Why the second week of January? I was in tears every day this week. And explaining why I was upset didn't help. Because it's hard to explain why every little thing sets you off. I don't know why. I just know that it does. I feel weak, when I know I'm supposed to be strong. I feel lost, when I should know my way.
And the worst thing is, I feel whiny when I try to vent.
I have friend who are here for me, and people who care. I know this, and yet I don't accept this. Trusting people is hard. Opening up is seemingly impossible. How am I to know that someone's concern is genuine?
So for tonight, I'll write. I'll get the words out. And then, in the morning, I'll just pray that I find strength.