I started this year with big dreams of blogging all the time. I was going to write book reviews and read more indie authors. I was going to write all the stories and I was going to publish a book of poems. Then depression grabbed me by metaphorical balls and wouldn’t let go.

I am not the type of depressed that lays in bed with no energy to get up and bathe or go to work. I am more a high functioning depression kind of person. I know there are things that NEED to get done, but that is all that is going to get done. The rest of the time I am in the mind numbing spiral of watching brain rotting videos. Facebook shorts, YouTube shorts, TikTok, and Instagram reels. I get bored with one platform and move the the next.

My depression is the kind that keeps me from wanting to read. I can’t sit still long enough to read a book and my mind races into so many other scenarios that only make the darkness…darker. I may listen to a book while I am driving, but mostly I am listening to music that I can scream at the top of my lungs or listening to podcasts that I think will save me from my own horrors floating around in my head.

This depression came to a tipping point last week. I seem to go through cycles and I feel like they don’t last as long as they used to because I now tell my friends who are always there for me. I have an amazing support team that does not make me feel like a burden.

I am now reading again as well as actively listening to audiobooks. I am smiling and enjoying life. I have a high that comes after the depression…it also comes before the depression, but that is a different story.

I feel like after every spell of depression I come out of it like I have gone through a transformation. I am a moth that returns to the pupa stage so I can break down and rebuild again.

There are studies that show a high percentage of creative people suffer from different mood disorders, including depression. It makes you wonder if depression causes people to be more creative or if the creative mind causes the depression. I know for me, when I write it keeps the depression at bay, but when the depression is bad I can’t write much. Which sends me into a deeper depression. It is a vicious cycle

I think that I have gone through a transition that has opened my mind. My brain consist of different versions of myself. We have Janet, the logical one. AnnaHell, the wild one. Sunshine, the young one. Dawn, the depressed one that rocks in the corner and doesn’t talk to anyone but Sunshine. Last week, they were all gone and I couldn’t find them. This week, I have found them and Dawn is no longer in a straight jacket, rocking in the corner. She was the one that needed the most healing, while Sunshine needs the most hugs. Dawn and Sunshine are broken parts that needed work and I think something in Dawn was healed this round of depression. She is not 100% healed, but she doesn’t need the straight jacket anymore and her stare is no longer blank. She is holding hands with Sunshine and she can smile.

Even AnnaHell has come back less angry than she was before.

Something broken inside of me became fixed. Like I said before, I went back into the cocoon and became goo so that I could be reborn anew.