I’m sure many women fake it. No, I’m not talking about “it” which is often associated with certain bedroom proclivities. Faking it in my case alludes to my happiness—or, rather, lack thereof for the moment. I feel like I’ve been on auto-pilot for months, maybe even years, just trying to sustain some ability to feel like myself again. While I don’t yet know what that even means, much less how to achieve it, I do know that I have a problem. My problem is this huge elephant that is my depression and anxiety. While I am acknowledging my need for help, the process has been a slow one. I guess that’s to be expected. I cannot do it all at once. I can barely function day-to-day. I figured starting here could be a good tool for me to give these emotions a voice as I begin down this road, come what may.
Until next time.