Today is kind of a rough day for me, mentally. Everything is physically going fine. I woke up early, I stopped by a cute coffee parlor that I had been wanting to try out, I dressed nice today, I didn’t make the alarm go off at work when I put the code in for the first time ever (score), and I am not overloaded at work so far (but then again, it’s only 11:13am). I spoke with my mom and my grandmother on the phone, I cleared out my work email, and I am making plans to see friends over the weekend. 

But I can’t eat. I haven’t finished my cup of coffee yet, and I forgot to take my medicine this morning. I’m jittery from the coffee. I am staring at my computer screen and hoping that I don’t see notifications pop up where I have to converse with anyone and act like I’m feeling alright today. Everything is going great, yet I feel so.. Not great. 

It isn’t like this everyday. Some days my words spill from my vocal chords with grace, without hesitation or stutters quilting my abundantly awkward self. But today, it’s not like that. 

I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder (MDD) when I was in college. Before I understood my diagnosis, I thought that depression was just an episodic feeling that went away after some time, brought on by some crazy life happenings. I didn’t think it would sit in the corner of my room while I watch rom coms and drink my favorite wine, in the backseat of my car when I drive home from a great morning of brunch with my best friends, or even in the seat across from me at my favorite coffee shop, waiting on me to look right into its hellish gaze. 

But it does. And sometimes, I lock eyes with the brute fiend that is another form of myself. 

Today, I want to look past the leering eyes of my other self. I feel stronger when I do.