Living (and writing) With Depression and Anxiety

Living with depression and anxiety is hard. Very heard in fact, and I would never wish it on anyone. It’s not fun at all. But like many people out there I do it. I cope. Because I have to. It’s especially hard for me because I have so many things I genuinely WANT to do. Writing, drawing, reading, yard work even! I just completely lack the motivation and energy needed to get these things done. But oh, how I wish I could just wake up in the morning and do all these things, one after another, and all in the same day no less! That’s how it used to be, but not recently. I wish I could get up and have a giant list of tasks, and things, and chores that I plan to do all day, and not shut down. Not get a sudden crippling stomach pain. I really do.

And for any of you who may be out there that say “Oh, depression and anxiety isn’t real, it’s all in your head.” Well for one, of course it fucking is genius. It’s called a MENTAL illness. And for those who say, “Oh, just get up and do something. Just get over it. It’s not that hard.” It is hard actually. And to both of these types of people I say “Bye!” You can leave right now and never come back, because I am done with people like this.

Back on subject! Besides complaining about my illnesses, I’m really just wanting to talk about my writing.

It’s hard for me to start on a project, whether it be a brand new idea or just going back and finishing off an old story. I don’t feel the inspiration, motivation, or energy needed to accomplish it. And I need to slowly do that. Think of creative and fun ways for me to get back into writing. Because even as I just write this simple post, I’m having terrible stomach pains and want to just shut my laptop. But I won’t!

I don’t want to stop writing, or rather, being a writer. I just can’t and I won’t. I’ve always enjoyed it and I always will. No matter if it’s as easy as walking, or a very difficult task that takes me hours just to start. I’m going to write. It’s the fulfillment of being able to let all those words out of your head that just seem to be bouncing around that I want. Being about to create whole other worlds and people. And being able to let your feelings just bleed onto the page, rather then off your skin. It’s a great feeling once I finish a piece, and even once I get started writing it. The problem is just getting started.

So this post is a bit of a mess and all over the place, and I apologize. What I’m trying to say is I’m not going to let whatever is bringing down the rest of my life stand in my way from the one true thing I’ve always loved. And that if you’re having similar problems you shouldn’t either. It doesn’t even have to be writing that’s your one true passion. Just know that, if you’re dealing with mental illness or just tough times, don’t let anything stand in the way of doing what you love. Fight it and break through the impenetrable wall that it’s built itself on. Because I know, and you know, we can do it.

Have any tips for getting my inspiration mojo back?

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2 Comments

Filed under Non Fiction, Rant

2 responses to “Living (and writing) With Depression and Anxiety

  1. Hi Sean, I suffer from A&D too and know how uttterly limitating it can be. Sometimes its hard to breathe let alone string sensible thoughts together & the stomach churning is awful. But I think knowing you’re not alone helps – there’s so many others who battle this too. On a personal level my faith is the only thing that has got me through some really tough days! I do find grabbing a couple of note pads and getting out for a picnic somewhere really nice helps me, it clears my mind and before I know it the overwhelming symptoms become controlable. It’s a challenge, hope you find your mojo soon! Keep writing!!!! πŸ™‚

  2. WOW. I totally get this. I wrote a short essay a few weeks ago about how I had a really bad anxiety attack about visiting friends and needing to drive myself to meet them to feel in control of my anxiety. Shared it with my husband, he said it was unrelatable because people don’t feel anxious about visiting friends, and it kind of broke my heart that as someone without anxiety, he didn’t get it AT ALL. Sometimes it just does not make sense, we know what we’re afraid of is totally illogical, but that doesn’t make it any less real. In short, I feel ya πŸ™‚

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