I will admit that I was hesitant to write this, because of my being targeted by trolls. But if someone is so cowardly, that they need to hind behind a burner to spew vile black toads, they're not someone worth worrying about or responding to anyway.

Like so many women, I am a survivor of physical and sexual violence. I turned to alcohol to self-medicate for a very, very long time. I also have a history of self-harm. It took going to therapy this year to finally get on track with my mental health, and I've been working very hard since March.

But sometimes, my lizard brain takes over. At night, as I'm lying in the catatonic state between drowsiness and sleep, I hear whispers.
"You will never be good enough, and have accomplished nothing."
"You alone are culpable for all this misfortune that's come your way."
"You have no friends."

My rational brain knows that depression lies. Understanding that, sometimes it's just too much to take. These past couple weeks have been very difficult for me. Between the stress of school, the stress of taking care of my Grandfather, and the stress of another failed dating attempt, I've been really down. My Doctors have readjusted my meds, so I'm hoping that will make me feel better. I also have amazing, supportive friends, in the "meat space" and online, that are coaxing me through this.

I'm so tired at looking in the mirror and wanting to throw up.
I'm tired of having no energy, and how even getting out of bed takes a Herculean effort.
I'm ashamed that people like my Grandfather are relying on me, and some days I sit next to him on the edge of tears, my mind racing with thoughts on how useless I am.

I just want to feel like me again. I know that I've come a long way, yet I have a very long way to go. My credo of this journey has become "depression lies," and each day I suit up, grab my lance, and ready myself for the joust against it.