When depression knocked on my door, I had no idea what a deep impact it would have on my life. I always thought that overcoming challenges was just a matter of willpower. I believed that a sprinkle of motivation could turn things around. But dang it I was dead wrong.
I often heard stories from friends and family about their battles with depression, but I struggled to relate. My thoughts circled the question: "Why can’t they just shake it off?" It just seemed ridiculous.
The onset of my depression was subtle at first, like a soft whisper that grew louder over time. One day, I noticed I was no longer the cheerful person I once was. Instead, I felt like a fog of despair had permanently settled over me for no reason. I could not put my finger on one thing that would caused this fog to appear which frustrated me more causing more fog to appear.
The fog silenced me; silence can act as both a sanctuary and a prison. This silence felt like a protective measure, yet it only intensified my feelings of loneliness and isolation. I convinced myself that I simply needed a brief period for self-care, though deep down I understood I required much more than a warm bubble bath and a cup of tea. I felt embarrassed. This wasn't who I was, and I couldn't conquer this challenge as I had always thought I could.
My silence became a heavy burden. Others perceived my silence as a personal affront to them, thinking that for some reason I had decided to hate them, creating made-up scenarios as to why I now hated them. I feel that I've always shown others grace, and now I urgently need some myself.
I recalled a TV commercial I had seen of a man lifting weights and clearly needing assistance (here's the link to the commercial https://youtu.be/QPuMTIwJTrQ?si=Vhw-Kk8ZTdC9_Ls0). My initial step, which felt like a monumental task, was reaching out to and speaking with a therapist. My therapist recommended that I begin "talking" by journaling. Each small entry gradually made the fog clear up little by little. Writing helped me realize how minor sad things had accumulated into a large beast. A beast called depression.
In my journal, I recognized I wanted to get my "sexy back." I've witnessed friends firsthand get their sexy back. The pep back in their step and a smile on their face. I wanted some pep already!
As I navigated the complexities of being a human with depression, I started wondering: "What does it truly mean to feel sexy?" I had previously linked feeling sexy to confidence and desirability. But I began to see feeling sexy meant embracing who I genuinely am.
The experience of feeling depressed is challenging, but it has also opened doors to self-acceptance that I never knew existed. I am discovering more about myself and have understood what it genuinely means to feel sexy. This ongoing journey will take time, but I feel hopeful and empowered. I invite you to join me in this dance of self-discovery, as we all strive to embrace our own sexy.
All of my love,
❤️ Charlotte
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