I know I can do this. I have approximately 7,750 words to write, with tomorrow's deadline looming overhead. No big deal -- I've done more with less time.
This, however, is exceedingly difficult.
Recently my husband confessed to cheating on me, and life's been a bit hard ever since. I've gone back-and-forth with the idea of moving out... but the "right" choice continues to elude me.
Every time I open a new document in Word my eyes seem to glaze over. The cursor blinks, taunting me, mocking me, reminding me of all the happiness I had hoped to have had.
The easy choice would be to just leave. No big deal -- I've done it before.
The hard part is accepting the finality of it all. I've gone a month so far with the idea that we could work things out, that maybe this problem can be resolved.
But I don't think it can. All I think about is the Why's. And when it isn't the Why's, it's the Where's, Who's, What's, and When's.
I have deadlines to meet, invoices to send, and bills to pay. I literally cannot afford to choke right now. My savings are blown and my accounts are empty.
Depression is a sneaky monster. It whispers things directly into your brain in a way that makes your worst doubts seem like absolute reality. It makes you tired, irritable, and anxious, but worst of all -- it makes you feel hopeless.
I am not hopeless. I am not hopeless. I am not hopeless.
Rinse, wash, repeat.