Have you ever experienced one of those cruel moments that open your eyes?
No? Yes? Okay, so I’m not alone.
This happened not too shortly ago. As many of my readers know, my life is encased in this suffocating bubble known as depression and anxiety. The bubble increases with room to live and then shrivels up and takes the life out of me with it. It also blurs my vision when looking outside and remembering the ones around.
It isn’t intentional. I hate that I didn’t return your phone call or your text. I bailed out hanging out, even though I was really looking forward to it. In my case, it is easier to just give up or better yet, give in to the depression and anxiety. It takes mental stamina to fight against it. It takes will power to stand up against it. But, I mean, I’m already tired, what is one more lost battle?
Yet, the lost battle is the edge of dying friendship. A bystander who is tired of being neglected. And while this bubble of depression is closing in tightly, I don’t see the anger and frustration it leaves behind.
It’s rare that a person on the outside will stand up and raise their hand in defeat; enough of these games, enough of the broken promises. It isn’t worth it. But, when it does happen, it is a stab in the heart of remorse and shamefulness. Is this what my life has become? Am I so low and dark that I can’t keep a friendship alive? Did I allow this depression to smash everything living inside me, as while as, outside surrounding me?
But, that cruel moment of honesty is the perfect amount of air that inflates the life back into the bubble. That brutal moment breathed life back into the small piece of hope.