I’m not really afraid of heights, it’s my untapped potential that scares the ever-loving fuck out of me. I’m used to having a crutch; when you have depression no one ever really expects you to reach your full potential. Just getting out of bed in the morning is gold star sticker worthy. So now that I’m getting better, I’m feeling more pressure to actually get things done and not to just sleep all day on my days off (even though that’s still all I want to do).
I look at all of the potential I have and it scares the shit out of me. I have the means to better myself, I could go back to college, or move, or both. All these endless possibilities and I just stand rooted to the spot, more terrified of succeeding and being happy than I am of slipping back into full blown depression.
Scratch that.
Slipping back into full blown depression scares me more. I never want to be that low again. I think I’m afraid of trying and failing again. It nearly killed me last time, and I don’t know if I’ll survive something like that again. I probably will. Humans are resilient as fuck.
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I feel like I’m battling with myself more now than before, I keep wanting to slip back into old habits. I keep slipping back into old habits. It’s tiring, dragging the depressed part of me around while simultaneously trying to change myself for the better. I understand that it’s process, but I keep self-sabotaging it. I don’t know how to stop, how to get out of my own way.
I’m comfortably uncomfortable in depression cocoon. I keep beating my wings against it while secretly praying that it never breaks because, holy fuck, then I’ll have to fly.
Clever Blog Title Here 