Very few statements my boyfriend has ever said have filled me with as much dread, but last night he told me “I’m so glad you are back; I have my girlfriend back again”. All I could think was, “wait, where’d I go?” Then I realized he was talking about my depression and that I’m slowly crawling my way back from the hole of doom. I am not out yet and some days I slide back a few crawls rather than make it forward. Because I am lucky enough to have a very supportive and communicative boyfriend I spoke to him about this and he said that he meant that I had been making progress and it made him so happy to see me functioning again. He went on to tell me that I had dealt with an inhuman amount of stress (he is not wrong) and is just thrilled that I am moving onward.

So why am I fearful? Because admitting to myself that I am moving forward makes me scared I will lose ground. I know that is silly, but it is a real feeling and I am trying like hell to deal with it. Some days I feel like a wounded banged-up pile of ground beef, and then some days I feel human and myself – sometimes those feelings change by the hour.  I used to think depression was something I was going to just get over; I know now that it is an evil bastard lying shitface living in my brain telling me that “the end is motherfucking nigh, bitch” and that the more I shrink the shitface the happier I can be.  And chances are I will have to live with the shitface forever; and I will continue to manage the symptoms.  One minute, one hour, one day, one week, and one year at a time.

Again, why am I fearful? Why did his words fill me with dread? Because I know that every single day I am going to have to fight the evil lying bastard shitface known as depression living in my brain and some days shitface might win.  What if this person, this love of mine, can’t survive another round of my depression? What if I can’t?