My Sadness is a Verb not a Noun advice & strategies depression is real emotions & emotional inventory living on contingency mindset matters remove the stigma sadness is a verb triggers & the inner critic

My Sadness is a Verb not a Noun

“Scratch her and she’ll bleed sadness.”  Wouldn’t that be a great opening line for a novel?  Truth is stranger than fiction.  This is my story.

When I feel sadness, I am immediately fearful.  Is this the sadness that feels like a wet fur coat in July?  Is it the same sadness that sat on my chest and poked me until I cried?  No.  This is different.  My current sadness is a verb; not a noun.

(Titled depression_by_thecruelone-sensum)

A few years ago, I toppled into a clinical depression.  I remember sitting in the ER while my son was being treated and something popped.  It was like the last bubble of resolve in my brain expired and I was overcome by darkness.   My heart ran out of blood.  I tumbled into unknown territory so fast I couldn’t identify what I was going through.  It was hard to breathe.  I was a shadow of my former self.

In the beginning I was extremely successful hiding depression from everyone close to me.  As my depression continued, it got to the point where I had trouble leaving my house.  Frankly I had trouble doing anything except crying.  I raged at myself and the feelings of inadequacy—if I were smarter, somehow different, worked less, exercised more ….. if (insert anything her) then I wouldn’t feel so hopeless.

I was living on CONTINGENCY.  As long as everyone else was doing well, I was doing well!  Things were falling apart fast and based on this system, I too would become a casualty.  I was taking zero time for myself, not only for self-care but time for feeding my passions.  I was living for my kids, had my identity tied up in my job and felt invisible in my marriage.   Kaboom.  There she blows!  I had nothing to ground me in the storm.

Depression affects all people regardless of geography, socio-economic status and age.  Women are twice as likely to suffer from depression; often stemming from an inability to process or express anger.  In the midst of depression, it feels like a glass divider separates you from the world.  Help is just too far away or you don’t feel worthy of the help.

Depression is a pit of despair.  The walls are high enough to keep you trapped inside and out of sight.  

Now when I feel the sadness running through me but it doesn’t knock me down or overwhelm me.  Why?  I am giving myself permission to sit with “uncomfortable” feelings.   From this struggle I will grow.  I am confident of that fact.

I have learned to give myself permission to feel.  Everyone struggles!!!  I take care of the little girl inside, craving to be healed.  I am pursuing my passions.  I laugh, I sleep, I dance.  I work really hard and play even harder.

If you walk in the rain, you get wet.  This is how I describe my current...

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