There's {hope}, but

It scares me.

I'm going to apologize now. This is probably going to be a very rambled post, I'll do my best to keep it all together and easy to follow.

Now while I was doing a bit of looking into the Obamacare that ya know, we all have to have now, uhm, I discovered that a few of the plans cover depression. Whoo-hoo! Excitement! Right?! I can start having all of my problems taken care of, I can not feel so much of everything and so much of nothing. I can concentrate. I can not feel like I'm a terrible mother. I can breathe {physically and metaphorically}. I can explore what happiness truly is. Maybe be a real true thorough optimist, or sleep properly, or eat properly or focus like I always try and need to.

But then it becomes scary.
What is that going to be like? I've had... this, whatever this is for as long as I remember. Actually, that's a half truth. I've always had this... dark companion with me. But I remember when I first started to notice him. It was a few years before I was 'whisked' away to Arkansas. I was sitting in my best friend a crossed the highways backyard... I want to say we were sitting on this old fridge her family never used anymore and I was talking about my family and how I really didn't feel like I fit in.

{Talk about a foreshadowing.}

Yet it could have been the night I sat on this little stool in my plum tree in the 'driveway' waiting for my mommy to come get me. She had a comedy gig that night. I watched every car drive around the curve in the road, and it cut a little bit deeper as each car kept driving passed the entrance to the my daddy's house. Oh, how it still hurts to think about. I'm pretty sure it was my dad who came out and wrapped a blanket around me as I continued to sit there... waiting... The thing with memories though, is that they tend to be lacking, or missing bits and pieces. What I don't remember is when I went inside, or if my mom ever showed up that night. I don't think she did. 

I really don't.

All over the internet are those jokes about how much adults miss being children. Miss the carefreeness of no bills, barely any responsibilities... and I do miss that. But most of all I miss not really being alone. Because that is all I feel these days. 

{Now listen here, I am not in anyway saying that there are not people in my life who love me dearly and are there for me whenever I need them. I recognize this and I appreciate it. Truly, you will have no idea how thankful for you I am.}

It was so much easier to make friends. To keep them. 

Sort of, unless your mother had an issue with substance abuse and you moved every single year.

So like I was saying, I have had this disorder for a tremendously long time. Therefore, it's essentially become a part of who I am. There was this... maybe a month? Definitely at the very least two and a half week period where it was not there. Not at all. My dark companion, never played softly with my hair, caressed my arms in the night, brushed the lint off my shoulder during the day. 

He was gone.

Then one day I realized it. I noticed that there was a difference; and just like that he came back stronger than I have ever known before. Oh how I wish that could be some sort of silly, cute metaphor, when in reality it is exactly as it sounds. Shortly after my Dark Companion had come back like a train; picture an attractive average male, decent arms, nice body, a guy that ate healthy and didn't work out more than one or two times a week. NOW picture the same guy, but now he's become much more serious about his diet (organic/natural/scheduled ect.), and he's working out 5-6days a week etc etc. Do you see him?

He's what? More defined, more muscles, bigger muscles. Not like a meat-head jock, instead like an attractive fit muscular dream boat. (I'm all about the visuals, ya know.)

I cried into a friends arms, one night sitting outside in the dark. Said friend informed me they'd gone through something slightly similar. It's always nice to know that what we go through, we don't go through alone. There was a tablespoon or two of comfort in that discussion. 

I've noticed an increase in my anxiety, and in what I like to call my 'low-spots', really I don't like that and I keep trying to find a new name. But what I mean is that my frequency of numbness has increased, it occurs more often. 

So what happens when it's gone?

Scarier yet, what if it doesn't go away?

For the past (just under) three hours I've been attempting to study. I've only successfully studied for roughly an hour and a half, yet all of that is eluded from my mind. I've not much a memory of what was just being studied. It's so terribly frustrating. 

Those are my worries, well there is one more: What if it gets worse?

(These are rhetorical questions.)

So if this semester is so rough on me, what's going to happen next semester? 

Sure I'll not be working nights, I'll be surviving on a strict budget and I'll (hopefully still be) working two day jobs. But what if this can't be... adjusted before next semester? I'll still be taking 3 to 4 classes. 

I will still be a mommy.

My biggest hope is that with the new year this will be gone, this terrible year will be over and the next (as they always are) which is so full of hope, promise, and good things will be just that: a good year. Hopefully even great. 

Seeing as I've got to attempt a bit of studying again, so that is how I will leave this post:

with just a tiny dusting of hope.