Author: Mrs.Depression

The worst tragedy in life is not death.

The worst tragedy is to stop laughing, stop loving and stop dreaming. The worst tragedy is when you die inside but outside you’re still alive.

Today I laughed. I’m glad I can still do it from time to time. Family lunch was great and I got to see all my family. They don’t know what I’m going through, they just think I’m weird.

Not even my father understands what this is. He thinks I choose being sad and depressed. But no. He always treats me like I’m a strange girl that suddenly went sad one day, he asks me why I don’t have any ambitions or wishes in life. And I guess I don’t.

My twins are almost two, and I feel like I’m missing all of it. I get angry at them really fast and I don’t seem to have any patience. If I add all the moments I go to the bathroom to cry… who would want a mother like me? I wouldn’t. then I get sad cause I don’t spend time with them or because I’m not as happy as I should. And I cry again. It’s the depression circle.

Like right now, I was playing with them, I saw my kitchen was leaking water, I went to clean it, my kids were being annoying, my husband was playing video games and I shouted at the kids and closed the door. They cried, I cried.

31 years old… and I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything in my life. Married and with two twins, I can’t seem to be happy. Why is it so hard? Maybe I should be trying harder. But I guess I’m tired of it.

This dark cloud that follows me along the way is annoying sometimes. I call it cloud, yes, I think it’s a good name. Sometimes the cloud is so dark I can’t see the path I’m going, sometimes it’s kind of clear, so for a moment it looks like I can see very far! And everything seems better. Most of the days, the cloud is just there, not super dark and not clear either. Just there. Over me.

The worst days are the ones the cloud decides it’s time to rain. I hate those days. It can’t rain for hours… And when you think it’s over, it starts again.

I wish my cloud would leave, but then I think… what if the cloud makes me what I am? What if I stop being myself? The cloud has been with me since I was seven years old. Dysthymia, Chronic Depression, it has a lot of names, and they all sound worse than cloud.

So yes, this is it. I am going to try and write a little bit everyday.

I hope I can win the fight against my dark cloud. If I can’t… please, just know I tried.

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton