Happily Ever After.

I’m a sucker for a book with a happy ending. I prefer it when things work out the way they’re supposed to, and by supposed to I mean the main character gets what they want and all problems and challenges are resolved. You just know life goes on for the characters in a happy and uncomplicated way after the last page is turned. I know that it’s fantasy; I don’t care. I like the way I feel when everything turns out all right...

Tired of looking for the win.

I’m tired of celebrating small achievements. It gets old. It feels pathetic. I feel pathetic. Yes, I know I shouldn’t and yes, I know that’s one of the ways depression takes you down but seriously, I’ve started to hate positive self-talk. I’m not interested in telling myself I’m doing well. Because seriously, compared to my former life, my achievement bar is set pretty low. I now give myself props for the smallest of things: You got dressed; good for you. Congrats on washing your face. You brushed your teeth before 2 p.m. – kudos. And look at you, wearing make-up. Good job. It feels so patronizing and pathetic at times...

Sometimes I skip a dose.

I take antidepressants three times a day, every day. Twenty milligrams of Trintellix and twenty of Latuda. The latter is a bit of a misery. It locks up the muscles in my face and causes tongue twitches. Really. It’s why I pushed dinner back to eight o’clock. I take the drugs with food, so if I can eat late, I only have to be awake with the side effects for a short while. Sometimes, I skip a dose...

The gap between knowing and feeling.

"“As soon as we realize that in this very moment we already have enough, and we already are enough, true happiness becomes possible.” - Thich Nhat Hanh I read that this morning, after getting up, after getting dressed – no makeup but we do the best we can – putting on some jewellery, eating breakfast, and journaling. And, through it all, I felt like shit. I couldn’t maintain the moment. I was not enough..."