Facing Reality (Or: When Reality is Kicking Your Ass)

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I’ve always been the “Silver Linings” girl. Well, maybe not always. I did have a rough time as a tween/teen. Still, since adulthood I’ve tried to always keep on the bright side, to put a positive spin on things, to see the good in people and  believe in their best when they might not be showing you their good side. It hasn’t always been easy, but I’ve tried – and mostly succeeded. There’s been times I’ve been down pretty deep in the doldrums, times where it lingered. Somehow I’ve always pulled myself out. I’d hesitate to call it anything like depression because I’ve seen depression, I’ve seen what pain others feel, and I was never that deep, never that lost. This year has been rough. I’ve said it many times. It’s knocked me down over and again, every time I’ve tried to pick myself up. I thought it was just the bad times knocking me down. Those were the reason I couldn’t pick myself back up so easily. Those nasty, horrible events were the reason I couldn’t drum out the doldrums as I always had before. They were the reason the good times didn’t have the luster they usually did. In the past couple of weeks I’ve had to be honest with myself. I’ve had to be honest with my husband. And I forced myself to be honest with my doctor. I am depressed. I can’t do this on my own. I’ve been trying to claw my way back out for months all on my own. All it’s done is left me nasty, bitter, and angry on top of depressed. I was always worried I’d insult those with severe depression by admitting mine. However, my bipolar husband thinks I’m being ridiculous by thinking that. As he put it, “Would you not admit you were sick because someone else has cancer?”  Sometimes, he’s pretty damn spot on. So here I am. Being honest with you all, as I’m attempting to be honest with myself. I am surrounded by my family, but I feel alone. I am surrounded by joy, but I feel removed from it. I feel like I’ve tried to reach out, but no one reaches back. I’m tired of not going out, because I don’t see the point…and because I’m afraid no one will care either way if I’m there anyway. I feel like the bad is winning. That we will never be in a good place again, personally, financially, physically. I’ve begun to seek help, but I think it’s going to be a long row to hoe. And I’m so tired of feeling alone. Read more »

The Upside of Down

I have about 5 posts sitting as drafts in my wordpress from the past two weeks. They are reflections on the depression I’ve been in. The despair I’ve felt as crap-storm after crap-storm hit us from all directions. Leaking drains. Lying doctors. Stupid cars. The brutality of the flu. One thing after another. After another. After another. Much of my facebook feed has been filled with the same. I do not often fall into the pit of depression, but I sure did this time. It’s been tough, and painful, and I am still not all the way out of it. And I know it is nowhere near what others go through every single day of their lives (those like my husband), but that makes it no less valid. However, little changes are happening, and big changes, too. In the depths of this all I went out without knowing where I was going. A little voice in the back of my mind was telling me to hop a plane anywhere. Another little voice pointed out a less expensive option, and the tattoo parlor in my path. And thus, I got my feather. A symbol of a lot – of freedom, strength, dreams of flying away, and perhaps even a nod to my upcoming book series. A couple of days later I got a surprise package in the mail filled with my favorite candies from Canada (thank goodness my childhood friend found me on facebook a few years back. 🙂 ). There are still struggles abounding. Still construction that needs to be done. But I am trying to claw my way back out. I cleave to the moments of good. The tokens of happy. I’m trying to find the upside of down. *Random Note – after I wrote down the title of this post it hit me…I once did a musical by that name. In musical I think. Can’t find any evidence of it on google…but damn, isn’t weird how those things hit you at weird times! Read more »

by Sarah Cass

Multi-published author. Mom of 3 special needs kids. Wife to 1 good man.
Redefining Perfect every day.