The past year has kinda sucked.  Actually, the past few years have been a pattern.  I keep telling myself that things will get better, things gotta get better. But they don’t.  Currently, on top of the personal stuff and the writer stuff, the dryer is going to have to be replaced soon and my laptop is doing evil things that makes me think I’ll need a new one.  I can’t write without a laptop so this ought to be interesting.

A few days ago, we went to an art festival and I bought a cute little clay thing for the bathroom, to put toothbrushes and the toothpaste in.  It cost $40.  It wasn’t even used once, because it was broken in the car. Somehow. Mysteriously. Ghosts must have done it because nobody will cop to it.

Every other day, something else is going wrong.

Not too long ago, I was told that I really don’t have anything to complain about…but, well….ya know, this sort of thing is subjective.

I was told that I’ve got a great career, but that great career isn’t really what people think.  This is how I support my family, so yes, it’s a big concern to me, because going back to nursing isn’t much of an option for me.  Naturally, I worry.  I’ve had two series dropped, struggling to keep the others going.  And I do mean struggle. The most successful one is the selfpubbed one and it’s twice as hard as the others since I’m flying solo.

I get that others have it so much worse than I do…and I really do get that.  I’ve got it so much better than my parents did and I know that.  Despite what it may sound like, I am grateful.

But…sometimes it feels like it’s all falling apart around me.

I hate that I feel like this.  I’ve got three beautiful, smart kids.  I’ve got a great husband.  And I am able to write for a living.  It’s more than some people can do, and I know that.

I appreciate it.  I wouldn’t change where I am, or who I am. Yet…I still feel like I’m falling apart.

How can I feel like this, even though I know I’ve got so many things that others don’t and that I need to appreciate every thing I do have?  Things I never hoped to have as a kid?

I don’t know.

Why does it feel like every day is a struggle and why has it felt like this not for a few days, a few weeks, but…longer? Frankly, right now I can’t remember when it hasn’t felt like this.  I’m not looking at weeks right now, probably not even months, but a couple of years.

It’s more than just stuff going on personally, things that I am not, and will not, go into.  It’s more than struggling to keep together a career that sometimes feels like it’s just…falling apart.

Sometimes I feel like I’m in the middle of the ocean and I’ve got people around me, and I know they can see me and I’m going down and it’s like…I know you see me, will you help me…but they aren’t seeing me drowning.  I guess I look like I’m swimming.  There have been a few times when I reached out to a couple of friends, but…nothing.  Granted, my idea of reaching out isn’t me grabbing hold and shouting…Hey, YOU!!! LOOK AT ME!! I’M DESPERATE!!!

I don’t do this well.  I never have.  I want to do things on my own–every thing on my own, which is probably one of my biggest flaws.  A few days ago, I finally broke down and admitted to myself, then to my husband that I was drowning.

It’s like there’s so much going on, with our family, with my career, with everything, there’s just no room left for me.  I’m drowning in everything else and it’s got me…lost.

It’s been more than a decade since I was this low, but I’m there again.  It took me three days to finally call my doctor and make an appointment. I saw my doctor today and I know tomorrow isn’t going to be any better and neither will the day after and neither will the day after that.

But maybe in a week or two, I’ll feel like maybe there’s something left inside for me.

Why am I telling people this?

Because of things I read from women like Jenny Lawson, the Bloggess.  The reason I finally made that damn phone call is because I do know that depression is an evil son of a bitch and I do know that depression lies.

And as lonely and down as I’ve been feeling, even when I’m trapped in that ocean, going under and I’m drowning and people just see me swimming, depression does lie.

There are other people out there feeling just as lost, just as low.  I know what it’s like.  And sooner or later, it will be okay.