Sunday, January 22, 2012

Strength

I have debated back and forth about writing this post. Part of me says I shouldn't say anything, that it's one of those things you should keep to yourself. But then the other part of me steps in and says, "No, speak up. Share your truth. Someone may need to hear it."

So I'm writing. And I'm doing it to show that sometimes being strong means admitting that you're not. In one of my previous posts I wrote about why I backed off this blog for a while. And while everything I wrote was true, it wasn't the whole story.

The truth is, for most of the past year I have been struggling with depression. I knew depression was common in people with MS, but not me, I thought. I'm stronger than that. How stupid, because it has nothing to do with being strong or weak.

What's not OK, though, was me following my husband around like a puppy or making him feel guilty everytime he went away for work because I didn't want to be left alone. Or making my kids watch me cry over just about everything. Or retreating from those who care about me. Or lying when people asked if I was OK, and saying I was fine. And doing absolutely nothing to stop it, all because I thought ... well, actually, I'm not sure what I thought.

Did I think it made me weak? That I was the only person in the world who felt this way? Was I embarrassed? Worried about what people would think? Whatever the reason, it wasn't good enough.

And so I'm moving forward, stronger because I've learned that its actually more valiant to admit when you're not OK and when you need help than to pretend like everything's fine when it's not. That's what makes me stronger.

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