…but every time over the past few months I sat down to write something, I got overwhelmed.

Delaying the inevitable divorce filing because things kept being more important at the time…

Absorbing family shit…

Losing residents and feeling like there’s never enough time…

Arguing about money…

Losing one of my best friends and realizing he never really cared for me the way we thought he did… **jury is still out on that one despite very clearly just being used. i think i’m still just not over it**

And, above all, sinking into the deepest, darkest depressive episodes I’ve ever had.

It’s exhausting waking up and literally starting your day crying BECAUSE you woke up. I didn’t want to do this anymore. I never was going to do anything to make it so I didn’t wake up but every morning, when the alarm went off…FUCK I was pissed I was alive.

I was at work one day and a family member asked me how I was still going. They knew that life was life-ing and it was getting harder for me to paste a smile on my face. I couldn’t answer the question and that made me really sad.

When I was little, I was dubbed the dramatic one. I also was so open and honest, my Mama would warn folks “don’t ask Emmy how she’s doing because she’ll tell ya!” and we’d all laugh.

I learned to squash down a lot of feelings to avoid being called dramatic. With that, I accidentally squashed down a lot of coping skills too.

It is terrifying to realize you can’t fake being okay anymore.

I started an Intensive Outpatient Program this week to get some of the help I’ve so desperately been avoiding. So far, I realize the wounds of abandonment, trust, forgiveness, and boundaries run way deeper than I expected. Depression and anxiety is literally woven into every aspect of my life. I’ve talked about not being able to shower or brush my hair before – I had sunk into that times 235479820 and had literally no way out. I was shaking my cup as drops were forming to give other people help and drowning without air myself.

If you had asked me six months ago what this summer would have looked like, I would have told you I would be living my best life because six months ago, I had enough distractions, albeit unhealthy, that I could fake it. When that distraction walked away almost 3 months ago, I did a gigantic swan dive into the deepest hole I’ve ever been in – I still am in it and there’s a pin-sized beam of light finally peeking through.

And who really wants to read about the trials of some person on the internet you don’t know?

So, as part of my treatment and my on-going recovery/work, I’m going to document my efforts. Nobody should feel like they are alone, especially when it’s so dark around them.

I hope you stick around and see my sparkle come back.

PS: BAM, if you ever read this, fuck you.