One week later.


What happens when it's Wednesday and you realize you haven't showered in a week? What about when it's Wednesday and you realize you haven't showered in a week... and you still don't want to?


What if simply the thought of bathing exhausts me.


What happens when the weight of bathing my own self is too heavy?


What if the weight feels so heavy that I can't lift it.... what if I don't feel worthy enough to bathe.


What if I don't love myself enough to be able to. What if I lie here in my filth and heaviness and I shatter.


Shatter into pieces...

Like I want to.


Like I wish I could.


I wish I could burst like a bubble. Then maybe someone will mop up my mess.


What is even the point of bathing?

Hygiene?


....Self Care?


"Self Care"... like.... I care about my self.


....What am I even doing here?

Why did I choose to fall from the stars to be alive.... in this bed... filthy, and to the point I wish I could shatter.


-to experience it?

-experience what?!


........contrast?


What if I don't want to have contrast?


What if I don't want to do anything but lay.


What if I laid down and stayed for a few days?

.....what if I never got back up.

What if I just laid in bed forever and I never took another shower for as long as I lived.


I mean, would anybody else care? Would anyone else even notice?

Would I?


I suppose I'd never have to brush my teeth again, either.

I could sleep.

I could sleep all day.

I could probably sleep forever.


That's how it feels, sometimes, anyway.


Sometimes, it feels like it's easier to quit on myself than to cheer.


Sometimes, it feels like I would rather disintegrate into thin air.... than to take a shower and continue living.


Sometimes I really believe maybe it would be easier to close my eyes and never open them again.

....never do anything, again.


Sometimes I wish the sun would stop being so loud. Doesn't the sun ever get tired of shining? Doesn't the moon ever get tired of being after the sun?

Why do the birds sing when they're talking?

Don't the flowers ever get tired of blooming after it rains?


And rainbows....



I wish the crow outside of my window would shut up. It sounds like he's yelling at me to keep going.. and I really just don't want to.

I don't want to see the colors. I don't want to smell the fresh air.


I don't want to think about how the water from the shower might make me feel better.

I don't want to wash my hair.


the taste in my mouth is awful....

maybe I could just sit in the tub...


I want to be hellbent on laying here, but that damned crow just won't stop crowing.


....a cup of coffee does sound good.


Maybe I will just sit in the tub.

I don't have to shave my legs.


I could turn on the shower head and let it rinse me while I sit.

I could hold my thighs in my arms and bury my face in my knees.


I could pretend to be a flower that blooms after it rains.


Raindrops are heavy, falling from the sky. I watch them beat the same flowers they're supposed to water

......and then I saw the flowers bloom after it stopped raining.

I caught a glimpse of the rainbow the storm left behind.


The drops from the shower beat my skin like the rain.

I can make the water as hot or as cold as I want to.


Maybe I just needed a good cry.


Ugh, I forgot how much I loved taking a shower.


I bet it's almost as much as flowers enjoy the rain.


FACE-A-DAY


Every single day, we are faced with something new.

A new diversity, a new challenge- a new victory.


And every single day- we grow.


80% of the success is showing up-

The willingness to show up changes us. It makes us a little braver each time.


www.changethefaceofdepression.com



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