As a writer, I lump myself into the category with confessional poets, like Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton. Plath and Sexton both committed suicide.
As a regular person, I lump myself into the category with other friends that have mental health issues. Mentally and emotionally, we have all lost our way at some point. Some of us have gotten back on track. Other friends are still walking that fine line of stable and trainwreck. A few of my friends have committed suicide.
Although, my emotional state is fine at the moment, I worry that all of my triggers will come over for an extended visit and will break me into pieces again.
Six years ago, I stopped going to therapy and taking anti-depressants. I don’t want to go back but I will if it’s necessary.
All of those feelings have to be kept in check. I do a mental health inventory on a regular basis. Am I depressed? Is it time to go back to therapy? Do I need anti-depressants again?
Depression is a slippery slope. Before you know it, all of the feelings are too overwhelming and we’re back to the breaking point. Then we’re begging our therapist to come out of retirement because she was “The One.”
I love the Project Semicolon slogan, “Your story isn’t over yet.”
It’s true. Our story isn’t over yet.