I’ve been trying to figure out how to talk about my brain at the moment. Because, frankly, it’s being kind of an assmonkey.

We went away for the weekend, just me and my Adam and a spa pool and good food and books and total relaxation and it was so frikkin’ heavenly, you guys.

And then I came home and did a bunch of things yesterday morning. Like, a lot of things. Productive Jax for the win.

And then I depression napped for 5 hours. I know it was a depression nap, because I couldn’t wake up. I had repeated dreams about waking up, but I couldn’t do it for real. I eventually crawled out of bed like a zombie when Adam came home from work, mostly because I felt guilty for sleeping all afternoon.

And what it feels like, is that I am not, under any circumstances, allowed to stop. Because if I stop, if I relax, if I let my guard down for even a second, then the brain monkeys swoop in and knock me down. If I keep moving, keep doing, keep knocking things off the list, then they can’t get me. A moving target is harder to hit. A moving target never really gets to rest though.

I don’t want solutions. I am working on it. We are working on it (because I am fortunate enough to be with someone who understands that combatting brain monkeys is a lifetime thing).

I just… I guess a lot of people don’t think of me as depressed because I am very productive and have a pretty positive outlook on the world (overall) and I try and be someone who puts good into the world and engages with people with compassion and kindness as much as I can.

And I wanted to lift the curtain for a second, because I am also exhausted from fighting the things in my head, and extremely irritable at the moment, and likely to snap at you. So, like, please just be a bit patient with me right now.

I’ll come right. I always do.

This is less about me and more to say that sometimes depression looks like 5 hour naps and sometimes depression looks like hyper-productivity and sometimes it looks like a desperate attempt to make the world a bit shinier. It has many faces.

Today, if you’d like to help me, check in with your other strong friends. Let my ability to talk about this maybe help someone else. You may never know what it means to them. It may make all the difference. 

I love you.