keep breathing.

"the storm is coming, but i don't mind. people are dying, i close my blinds. all that i know is i'm breathing now. i want to change the world - instead, i sleep. i want to believe in more than you and me. all that i know is i'm breathing, all i can do is keep breathing...." (ingrid michaelson)

these lyrics really resonate with me. they basically sum up what depression does to me. all the passion i have for life is overwhelmed by numb, and all i can do is keep breathing.

the past few days have been hard. i'm not going to lie. i've still made myself do things and be with people, but it has by no means been easy. the worst part about this is that i know those close to me suffer along with me. i try not to let it affect the way i act, but i spend most of my day trying to pretend like things are fine, and by the time i get around my real friends i'm exhausted of that.

for months now i've considered going to see a psychiatrist. counseling has helped a lot, but i still feel really out of control sometimes. but at this point it feels like it's too late. i leave in six weeks, which doesn't give enough time to even discern whether or not the medicine is right for me or working properly and all that. realizing this makes me feel trapped. i know God is going to take care of me, because he certainly has so far. i've just recently allowed myself the freedom in my mind to utilize the resources he's placed out there, though. but now i feel like medicine isn't much of an option, not before mexico.

last night i was restless. i tried laying outside in the cold listening to music and playing the piano at the church. i finally headed home but when i got there, instead of pulling in the driveway, i kept driving. and cried. i drove the long way to downtown jackson, then past all the places where i'd normally go to visit the homeless. i didn't see a soul. finally i found one man, camped on a bench at a covered bus stop. i parked my car down the street and walked to where he was. he had a grocery cart in front of him, probably to block the wind. i tried making conversation and offered him a blanket, which he refused with a mere shake of his head. despite all my attempts, he never said a word, just kept shaking his head. it's a bad night when not even the homeless will talk to you. finally i simply went home, completely out of tears and energy.

what a week.

i'm thankful that You get me.