Daffodils & Depression

This daffodil is growing in my sad and neglected flower bed. I love daffodils, they are simple but beautiful and a reminder that spring is on the way.

When I was a little girl I lived across the street from a house that was always vacant, well kept but vacant and in the backyard was a huge daffodil patch. I wasn't supposed to go there but I always did. I would sit in the middle of all the flowers and pick as many as my hands could hold. I got caught by the caretaker of the house one day but he acted like he never saw me. I guess he couldn't be angry with this little girl with wild blonde hair and a handful of daffodils. Every time I see a daffodil I think of that day and I wonder if the house is still vacant and if the backyard still has the big patch of daffodils.

Spring is right around the corner, I can see it in the budding trees and how the woods I live in is just a little greener each day. In the morning, the birds seem happier and louder. In a way, I feel like I'm waking up too from a long, hard winter.

I've been depressed for a long, long time. I knew I was on some level but until recently, I didn't realize how bad it had been. The last couple of years have gone by in a blur, not living just existing. It's hard to know when you're severely depressed when you're in it. At least that's how it is for me. Maybe because it's a gradual thing, I don't know. For me it took having my children become sad for me, worried about me, scared for themselves. That jerked me back to life quicker than anything else could've.

The stigma that I encounter regarding depression is what I allow to keep me depressed. I allow people to tell me to just get over it, to get a grip, to walk a mile a day, to be more thankful. I've internalized all of that, thinking I'm just a weak person, an ungrateful person. I didn't see that I was a person who needed help, love, support, encouragement.

I started seeing a therapist in December, I was so depressed and ill (I will touch on that more in another post) that I could barely form a sentence. I had all these thoughts and feelings jumbled up in my head, I didn't know where to start.

I've been going to therapy faithfully every week since then. Next to medication, seeking therapy was the best thing I could've done for myself. She's helping me process the junk, she validates what all along I knew in my heart to be true and she listens without judgement. She tells me I'm stronger than I think and slowly I'm starting to believe her.

Yesterday I came home from therapy and saw that daffodil, I noticed how yellow it was and I jumped out of my car to snap a picture. That's when I realized, wow Tyra, you're starting to feel better. For so long my life has been on auto-pilot, it's like everything has been a shade of gray. Now I'm seeing colors and actually hearing the sounds of life going on around me.

I no longer hide from certain people that I'm going to therapy because you know, it's not their life, it's mine. Yes, I am being treated for depression and I will have to be diligent in my treatment for the rest of my days. I'm okay with that, it's not my problem if anyone else has issues with it.

Sometimes you have to treat yourself with the love, care and understanding that you would like from another. Don't sit around and wait for it like I did. Love and value yourself enough to get the help you need. I promise you it can and will get better.