It’s funny how the tears weren’t there until the moment I started to type this post. Suddenly faced with the task of pinning words to the day I am having, the first movement of my body was to swell toward crying. Funnier still how the tears didn’t actually come. The muscles around my eyes seem to have locked them in. For now.

I am starting something here, right now in this moment. I don’t have any idea what it is. There’s been this thought floating around my head for the past few weeks of starting a blog, and not for anyone’s sake but my own. A place for me to tell the truth. A place for me to step forward each day and reclaim a piece of myself. A place where I no longer have to try to be anything other than what I am.

My truth today is that I’m tired of trying so god damn hard to be something better than what I fear I am. I say fear because the truth is, I don’t actually know what or who or how I am. I have spent so long, have invested so much fight, into being a better version of myself–a version that someone could love–that I have very little idea of what was there when I started. I don’t want to try anymore. I don’t want to fight anymore.

I am not a happy person. I am not someone who wants to live. It never occurred to me until recently that I could accept this truth about myself. I have expended so much energy trying to deny it, suppress it, avoid it, change it, vanquish it, and yet I have always eventually circled back to it.

I was told somewhere along the line that people don’t like Depressed people. That people would rather have happy, joyful, grateful people in their lives. So I have tried for over two decades, since I first realized as a child that I tend toward the shadows, to be what I imagine people to be who wake up in the light each morning. And I am tired. God, I am so tired of trying. Today, I would rather step into my reality than continue to do battle with it. Honestly, I am starting to think that surrendering to it is the only way of ever being released from it anyway. As long as I continue to fight it, I will be entangled with it. It’s just not a way to live. Not for me. Not anymore.

After years of fighting Depression, I have decided to turn around, walk into its fold and sit down with my arms wide open and my face tilted toward it as though it was the sun, smiling. I have decided to get to know what’s here before determining that I need to be better than it. So, I will write my truth each day, knowing that my truths are momentary, and I will learn about who I am.

I have the luxury of starting this new adventure because I’m not thinking about killing myself today. I know that not everyone who is Depressed is as fortunate as I happen to be today. I can step into it because it is not threatening to kill me today. In fact, stepping into it is the only way I can see anymore of having the chance to live.