As the last week has come and gone since I started my blog, I have dealt with a few feelings I have not felt before. I have been very honest since the conception of this blog, which has been difficult. My depression is not something I have ever been completely honest about. I didn’t open up to my husband until I decided I wanted to start writing a blog. He knew I have been dealing with depression, but he did not know the extent of it.
After I finished and posted my entry from yesterday, I felt something I do not think I have ever felt before. Vulnerable. I felt very bare and out there, kind of like in those dreams when you find yourself on a stage in front of your high school completely naked. That’s not exactly how it felt. Actually, it was much worse, and I felt that way for the rest of the day. I ran some errands with kiddo in tow, and the entire time I felt anxious. Obviously not everyone in the world has read my blog (though I did get my highest view rate yesterday), but what if someone here did and notices it’s me? Will they think I am a monster, be indifferent, or embrace me? My friends were embracing me, telling me how amazing I am for being so honest. Fellow bloggers were saying the same thing. However, it didn’t feel amazing. It was terrifying. Being vulnerable has to be one of the most raw feelings out there, and one of the most uncomfortable to deal with.
Last night I came across an image, and it kind of made me realize why it has taken me so long to be so honest. I’m not talking about seeking treatment or anything, just being open about my depression with those that I love, and love me back. I haven’t been afraid of people not understanding me, or understanding my depression self. I knew of other people who dealt with depression, but not to the extent that I have. I did feel alone because I had not talked about it, but the fear of being so vulnerable was enough to keep it bottled in. If I talked, I would be open and no longer hiding behind my happy mask. I would be forced to continue having to talk about it, which in turn would force me to feel so bare. Just the thought of it was horrible. It was much more comfortable hiding behind that happy mask. At least then nobody would bother me with “Are you ok? How are you feeling today?”
As I was reading my book last night (Room still, but I am so close to being done. I am a slow reader.), my mind started to drift towards how I had felt all day. When I thought about the picture in this blog, I realized being vulnerable is scary, but that’s ok. How else am I going to heal? I have mental wounds from my depression, wounds that may never truly heal, but I am learning to accept. This new vulnerability is a gateway to healing, not just for me but for anybody who reads this. The person may not suffer from depression, but maybe something else, and have been hiding it. My vulnerability can lead to someone realizing they should release their demons, and become vulnerable. It’s not a sign of weakness. It’s a sign of strength. How else would you be able to thrive through such a harsh feeling?
I am glad for this new-found feeling. Be vulnerable with me. Open yourself up, and let those demons free, whatever they may be. I promise, it may be strange and scary at first, but it will be worth it in the end.