Have you ever been depressed to the point of not wanting to get out of bed? I’ve always suffered from mild depression. Sad days are just a part of my life. I’ve had really good years, months, weeks. I’ve had really bad years, months, weeks. This year is a bad year time. I find it most aggravating when I can’t pinpoint the cause. I guess if I’m honest I do know what the causes have been. It’s hard to admit that your life just lends itself to trigger your depression. Sometimes you can change your circumstances to make things better and other times you can’t. I’m in a season of stagnation. It’s been hard. Today was a bed day. But when you have four people depending on you you can’t have the bed day. I tried to fake it and I failed. Failure… that’s a word that comes up in my brain a lot lately. Just feeling like you aren’t really making an impact. Failing. Failing and faking. I’ve been thinking a lot about faking it this week. I do it a lot. I don’t like to admit it. I’ve been trying to figure out how much of my life has been spent faking it. I think it’s been a high percentage. I don’t know who I would be without all these things. The depression, the faking, the failure. I keep trying to write this blog post and then don’t, or delete it, or never post it. The last thing you want is pity. I’m just not wanting pity. I just have all these things swirling in my mind 24/7 and you’ve just got to dump them sometimes. You know? Do you have a flaw that you can’t imagine who you would be if you didn’t have it? It isn’t like I’m proud of my depression, or hold it up on a pedestal. It’s just something that makes me human. Grounds me to this earth. This broken messy place we all live in. I’m not proud of it but if I didn’t have it… would I still be me? It’s been a hard year. I just have to keep faking and failing until I find the end of it.