There used to be a fire that burned deep inside me. The flames fueled my need to write about my life and struggles with depression and anxiety, to connect with other people who may be experiencing something similar, or educate those who were interesting in learning more about such things.
I feel empty and lost without the fire, I have been completely uninspired. I’m not sure what has changed. In general, I am at a loss for words and feel like I have nothing of interest or importance to share. It could be depression shouting words of discouragement at me, and it could be anxiety doing the same – the two working in unison to keep me silent.
Being stuck in darkness is something I am quite familiar with, depression will do that to you. Writing was always my outlet and now I find myself isolating further and further into the silence. I want to reach out but I am fearful, though I am not sure what I am afraid of. Perhaps it is simply the fear that my words really are meaningless. I have lost interest in many things I was once passionate about and I believed it was due to the medication I have been taking to treat my disease. But what if I am just not interesting anymore? People change and maybe I have changed into this person I don’t recognize. Do I move on and move forward? Do I fight for the person I thought I was?
I used to know when depression had its claws in me. Now I’m not so sure. I am functioning in my daily life, holding down a full-time job, getting along great with my husband. Yet being creative has always been a huge part of my identity and I don’t feel whole without it. All I know right now is that I don’t have any answers… yet.
Opinions, suggestions, insights always welcome!