here you come again

It comes down to this: my children deserve to have a happy mother. They deserve to see me smiling more times than not, they deserve to hear me laughing and know that all is right with the world (at least the world that exists within these four walls). I have no right to deprive them of that. So while the past weeks have not been in vain, and I have learnt a lot and am still learning how to deal with my depression, I have made a decision. Mr Zoloft, just when I'm about to make it work without you, I want you to hold my hand again.

Because today, and several times in the past couple of months, it's just too bloody hard. Right or wrong, I'm tired of having to use every fibre of my being just to be able to get out of bed. To fight for nothing more than a feeling of not being depressed for a day or two. That's the reward. Not sheer unadulterated joy or heartfelt happiness or anything remotely resembling those things. Just head-above-water. I feel like I'm trying to run a marathon but to get to the starting line I have to climb out of a forty-foot hole. Even if I get to the top, my race is already run.

So there it is. All my reasoning, and I've needed quite a bit. But ultimately I think I deserve to be happy, and that right there is a major step forward from where I was six months ago. I think I deserve it. I know my children do. And even if that's all my knowledge, it has to be enough.