In college, I had a friend who would repeatedly text me "Still alive?" and react astonished when I replied in the affirmative. Eventually, it became an inside joke to antagonize me, even when I was standing a few feet away from him.
This year, the answer to that question was barely. This year was tough, guys. I'm still struggling (through therapy and multiple self-help books/programs) to admit that I'm struggling with depression. I'm not sure when it started, but I think the tip of the iceberg was in March when my friend was coming to visit me for the week and I didn't sleep for about 40 hours straight with no logical reason. Since then, I've struggled with sleeping through the night (if at all) and the lack of energy caused by that lead me to dropping the ball in so many areas of my life.
I chose to whine, cry, and essentially hole myself up at home wondering why I couldn't perform the most basic of human functions: sleep. So, basically, I just stopped doing anything.
Two months ago I really started a journey to assessing my environment, my diet, and general attitude. They were all pretty crappy and doing nothing because I'm tired was just compounding the issue.
I'm still exhausted half of the time, but I'm working on it and keeping a positive attitude. I'm shifting my focus to the things I can control and reigniting my passions - like blogging! - and remaining hopeful.
So, am I still alive? Yup. Alive and kicking..
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