In the weeds.

I just remember feeling less. Not realizing it in the moment, but knowing it in the aftermath.

When I was younger it was referred to as moodiness. The older I got I said things like I was going through a phase. I wasn't educated enough, didn't know what I was going through. I just understood there was a difference whenever I came out of it. 

I call it by it's name- depression. 

Now I'm older, and I just got out of the weeds again. I wake up with energy, look forward to the day. My brain is less foggy, and I have energy. Those close to me began to comment on my disposition, on my losing weight again. It always fluctuates either up or down when I'm in it. 

On the bad days, I feel like I'm drowning. Or I remember someone referring to feeling like butter being spread over too much bread. Too thin- not enough to go around. 

No one knows how dark my thoughts go because I don't talk about it. I can see now though, how people can think that choice will solve it all. I didn't understand, was judgmental for the longest time. I don't feel that way any longer. I've learned mechanisms to get past those days. Don't isolate. Don't drink. Distract. It'll pass. Breathe. Breathe again. Feel that? Smaller steps, smaller bites, smaller thoughts. You got through another day. Now do it again. 

I look back on the worst of the days in a kind of wonderment. How did it get there? If I had the answers, I'd never get there again. I'm still learning the best ways for me to ask for help. How to distance myself from those who don't enhance my happiness. Letting go of the toxic, the attachments that don't do me a service. 

I never know when it's coming, I just know when I'm standing on the other side. It's best this way, I think. Can't dwell when I don't know where I'm standing.